Weaving a Noose of Grass, Thorns, and other Unwieldy Things
by FindingProvidence
Summary: Plants had always been his thing. They listened to him, danced with him, and died for him. Nature was his subject; he was its king. But he'd always been alone. So, when Percy Jackson learned there were others like him—demigods he could relate to—he opted to meet them, hoping for more than solitude. Now if only his mother didn't expect Percy to kill her husband's children...
1. Hobbes

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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1\. Hobbes

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Learning that the hyper-powerful Greek gods of old were around, lording over their domains and occasionally creating demigods with fantastical abilities, surprised Percy Jackson as it would any other person.

"The gods?" he repeated, hoping the creature across from him realized how ridiculous it sounded. "Are you telling me Greek myth is real?"

Sometime during his questioning, Percy had stopped stroking the rose next to him. His fingers ran across the pink petals gently. There, in Madison Square Garden, on that very bench he so often visited, the goat-man calling himself Grover Underwood had found Percy sitting.

"Yes, it's all real. Gods, monsters, heroes… you don't believe me, do you?" Grover asked, sounding a bit put-out. "I took my time explaining things!"

"Well, it's just hard _to_ believe," Percy shrugged. He let his hand pulled away from the rose, curling his fingers. With that gesture, the rose's stem elongated, stretching to reach him again. It didn't take long. The petals soon touched his palm, stopping their sudden growth.

Grover's eyes went wide. He pointed with a shaky finger. "Explain _that_ then! Chlorokinesis. You can control plants!"

"So?"

"What do you _mean_? You must be a child of Dionysus or Demeter with that power." Grover almost sounded hysterical. "Nature always wins!"

Percy wagged his finger and made the flower do a little wiggle. It danced for him, waving back and forth for some time, the petals blooming and then closing in stages.

If he were somewhere else—maybe a small village or straight-laced town—people might have cast Percy odd glances because of his activities. A few hundred years ago, and he'd probably have been burned at the stake or something equally as painful. Given the place and age he lived in, though, he figured people reasoned their suspicion as him being a fraudulent street-performer.

And that suited him just fine. Nobody ever stopped to ask him questions or give him money. Percy was allowed the freedom to entertain himself. New York City never stopped to consider him as anything but another body.

"If Greek monsters and gods were real, why hasn't the government done something? Pretty sure people would be freaking out."

"Haven't you wondered why people aren't looking at you too closely while you're doing… _that_?" Grover asked, gesturing to the dancing plant.

Percy shrugged. "Is there a good reason?"

"The Mist. It's like a veil that separates the reality humans can comprehend and the real reality—uh, if that makes sense," Grover tried to explain, his hands making odd motions while he spoke. "You and I can see through it, meaning we notice monsters, gods, and all the crazy stuff that comes along with the supernatural. Humans can't see monsters or anything related to _our_ reality."

"Why are you putting your fake feet back on, then?"

Grover sighed and leaned back on the bench. "Well, satyrs aren't always covered by the Mist. Not sure why. Maybe Hecate has a grudge against us or something."

"Hecate?"

"Goddess of Magic. She controls the Mist, makes sure things run smoothly and that mass panic doesn't envelop the world."

"Tough job."

"Must be. She's not on good terms with the gods right now."

"That explains some things, then. But what if I wasn't a child of a god? What if a meteor gave me these powers?" Percy asked, flicking his wrist, making the rose's stem contort and writhe. "Or what if I cut myself on a radioactive thorn and got superpowers that way?"

With his suggestion, several reddish-green spines sprouted from the stem, popping up like unwanted acne. Each was longer than usual and serrated as if they were going to be used for cutting open a juicy tomato or fresh loaf of bread.

Grover actually _bleated_ and shook his head. "No way! I mean, okay, humans are kinda crazy with their experiments, so it's possible, but the chances are almost zero. Can you honestly say that's how it happened? Or have you always been attached to nature?"

Percy pulled away from the rose, but not before tapping it once with his index finger. He watched sullenly as it underwent rapid atrophy, drying and dying in the space of four heartbeats. "I suppose you got me there. So, then, which is it? Demeter? Dionysus?"

"Well that's not hard to figure out," Grover puffed his chest out. "Do you live with your mom or dad? If it's your mom, then _probably_ Dionysus. If it's your dad, then _probably_ Demeter."

The rationale was sound in Percy's opinion. "Why only probably?"

"There are a lot of minor gods out there. There's a chance you might be one of their kids, but..."

"You don't think that's the case," Percy finished the thought.

Grover nodded along. "Yeah, I don't. The way you control plants just seems so effortless. I mean, it's really cool, don't get me wrong, but I'm a bit envious too. Strange to think no other satyr smelled you if you're an Olympian's kid."

"Olympian? The twelve major gods?"

"Mhm. They're typically the most powerful gods. By that math, their kids are usually the most powerful half-bloods."

Percy looked at the sky. It was cloudy, and he felt a bit drained after having messed with the rose bed for nearly thirty minutes.

"Do all the Olympians have demigod kids?" He was trying to imagine a gaggle of super-powered toddlers, throwing bolts of lightning and shooting jets of water at each other.

"No, there are some who don't. Artemis, for example. She's awesome. Uh, Hera, the queen, doesn't have relationships outside of her marriage to the king, either. Goddess of Marriage and all that."

"Oh, right. Sorry, I never really cared much for myths. School was always kind of a pain in the ass for me," Percy admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious at his lacking knowledge. "And my high school only offers one semester of Greek mythology as an elective."

Grover waved the apology away with an understanding smile. "So, which is it? Do you live with your mom or dad?"

Percy plucked a rose from the bush. "Neither. Guess that kinda pokes a hole in your method, huh?"

 **‹‹White Cut››**

"Okay, say I believed you, and my life is in serious danger out here. You said something about a place for kids like me. For half-bloods and the likes," Percy put his wallet away and took a sip of his coffee.

It was almost dark out. But, because it was December, Percy's watch read 4:00 p.m. Not a late hour, despite the dimming sunlight.

Grover had already managed to finish his own coffee and started eating the disposable paper cup it came in. He spoke in between his munching. "Camp Half-Blood. Great place. Lots of people around your age… um…"

"Sixteen."

"Yeah… I'm sure you'd get along with people there. Besides, if Demeter or Mr. D—that's what we call Dionysus at camp—is your godly parent, you'll have some half-siblings to hang with."

Percy and Grover stopped at the intersection of Madison Avenue and East 34th Street. They both looked to the left, heads slowly inclining upward. Only one block over, the Empire State Building loomed far above them. Office lights ran along the side they stared at, forming patches of orange-yellow amid the dark windows.

"So they live up there?" Percy asked. "Six-hundredth floor or whatever?"

"Yeah."

"They do know there isn't a six-hundredth floor, right?"

"I assume that's the point."

"Can we visit them?"

"Not a chance."

"Cool."

"Yup."

Percy yawned. "Alright. It doesn't make sense for me not to believe you. I mean, I've seen some stuff, but that was all after learning about my powers. It was just another thing to make me even more different from everybody else."

"So you'll go?" Grover seemed excited by the prospect.

"Maybe. Text me the address," Percy took out a metal business card holder. He flicked it open and took a card, handing it to Grover.

"Wait… you have a cell phone?"

Percy lifted one shoulder. "Yeah. Gotta have it for… work related things."

"Work? Like, a part-time?"

"...Sure."

Grover shook his head. "Demigods shouldn't talk over the phone. It basically amplifies your voice and paints a huge target on you for monsters. You really haven't been attacked?"

Percy took a long drink and finished his coffee. "Uh… no?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you're lying to me."

"Not by monsters."

They watched each other for a few seconds before Grover took a pencil from his loose-fitting jeans and wrote on the back of the business card. "This is really nice coloring."

Smiling with pride, Percy cleared his throat softly. "Right? That's bone. And the font is a little something called Sicilian Contrivance."

Grover handed the card back, and Percy checked to see what was written. A full address stood out against the white backdrop, in the scratchiest script he'd ever seen put to paper.

"Farm Ro—"

"Shhh! Don't say it out loud. Never know who might be listening," Grover placed a hand on Percy's mouth. "Names have power. Even just an address. _Especially_ an address like that. We need to keep the camp safe. Just… when you get there, look for a big pine tree. It's hard to miss."

"Oh, gotcha, sorry."

Grover nodded. "It would be best for you to head there soon. A half-blood's scent grows stronger once they know the truth."

"I smell that bad?" Percy sniffed himself discretely. Nothing particularly vulgar caught his attention.

"Demigods have scents. Monsters can smell a powerful demigod from a good distance. Satyrs can do the same. Sometimes, its a race to see who gets to the kid first." Grover paused and took a deep whiff. He frowned and scratched at his thin goatee. "You… huh… weird."

"What's that?"

"You don't smell how I expected you to. I've been around my fair share of half-bloods, so you'd think…"

"So I don't need a shower?"

Grover was still perturbed but chuckled at the question. "Not really. Maybe monsters are thrown off by how you smell too. That might be why they haven't attacked you."

Percy sighed. "Alright, I'll bite. What's my scent like? New car? Baby powder? Asbestos?"

"No, no, and what does that even smell like?"

"It smells like potential compensation if you or a loved one suffer from mesothelioma because of asbestos exposure."

At Grover's blank gaze, Percy dismissed the joke with a wave of his hand. "What do I smell like, then?"

"Tuberose."

"I smell like a fleshy flower, commonly used in perfume fragrances, which exudes a moderate menthol top note when blooming, while also producing an off-note of rotting meat when very ripe?" Percy held a few fingers over his mouth as he thought. "I love it. My superhero name can be _Polianthes Tuberosa_."

"Musk Man?" Grover suggested.

"Deep Base Note," Percy corrected.

They looked at each other and laughed. With them having been standing at the intersection for some time, Grover took the next walk signal, leaving Percy to follow shortly after him. The sun had managed to set even further behind the canopy of tall buildings that made up Manhattan's skyline.

Grover looked around. "Well, I should get going."

"Right," Percy nodded. "You said you were on a mission? Finding more demigods?"

"Yeah. Up in Maine. I don't know if I'll catch anyone, but here's hoping," Grover crossed his fingers. "And what about you? You should head to camp tonight. Like I said, the sooner, the better."

Percy shook his head ruefully. "No can do. I've got an 8:30 reservation at Le Bernardin tonight. _Great_ sea urchin ceviche."

"Oh?" There was a moment's pause. Then came Grover's jaw dropping. "Le Bernardin? How did you get a reservation there? Better question, how can you afford to eat at a place like that?"

"My… uh… job pays really well." Percy shuffled away slowly. "So, I guess I'll see you later then. Good luck in Maine."

Grover smiled wryly. "Same to you. Stay safe out there. And don't blow all your money on a single dinner!"

‹‹ **White Cut››**

The next morning came and brought with it more winter weather. His arrangements made, valuables packed, and stomach full of food, Percy stepped out of the car. It was nearing noon, and he'd spent close to three hours sitting with a random person, mostly bored, on the trip from Manhattan to what basically amounted to Montauk. While ride-sharing companies in New York were still pretty new, they were slowly gaining popularity.

Percy pulled his wallet out and thumbed through the cash he had. Feeling bad having made the guy drive through such awful traffic, he added a few bills extra to the total.

"Keep the change."

The driver's eyes went wide. "T-that's too much—"

But Percy, already familiar with the reaction, hefted his duffel back and began trotting up the closest hill. "Keep it!"

He didn't bother looking back again. There were noises: a door shutting, an engine starting, and the crunching of gravel, then everything was quiet. Not even birds wanted to sing, and though he knew this place was near the ocean, he couldn't hear or smell it.

Percy squatted and ran his hand over the grass. It wasn't a sunny day, not with the cloud coverage, but he would rather be safe. Feeding his intention into the earth, he pulled his hand away. A small bush sprouted, following after his fingers, hoping to reach his touch again. On the shrub quickly blossomed a single, white flower.

 _Datura stramonium_. It was pretty toxic. But, it had the benefit of being vespertine and hallucinogenic, which he needed for the night.

Percy plucked the flower and tucked it behind his ear.

At the same time, he grew another plant, _Erythroxylum coca_ , waiting patiently as it shot up. The coca plant, typically cultivated for the production of cocaine, was a good stimulant and didn't cause dependency. Percy grabbed as many leaves as he could. Popping a few into his mouth, he put the rest in his jacket's pocket, for easy access through the day.

Satisfied, he tapped each plant, killing them.

With several more hours until nightfall, he had plenty of time to digest the coca before eating the poisonous _Datura stramonium_.

Taking a step forward, Percy snapped his fingers when he remembered what he forgot. He opened his phone and began to type out a quick text message for his girlfriend, who he hadn't seen or spoken with since the Thursday prior.

Considering it was already Monday, that meant three full days had passed since their last interaction. But such wasn't odd for them. They were comfortable enough going several days without speaking. In fact, Percy almost forgot why he'd started dating this one in the first place. Well, she'd been the one to ask him out, and while she wasn't the girl he'd had his sights on, he didn't want to be rude. After the first few dates, he warmed up to her enough, so they'd been together for a few months.

Making sure he got his point across as clearly as he could took several edits to his wording. After a final check, he nodded and pressed send, effectively becoming a single man again. With his phone being one of those prepaid, flip types, he had no qualms about snapping it into two pieces. If what Grover told him was true, then she had no place getting involved in the world beyond the Mist. He felt guilty breaking up with her over text, but it really was for her own good.

Besides, dating a demigod sounded like it would be easier.

He took the battery and SIM card out, and, crushing the latter, chucked the former to the side. Percy dropped the phone's remains, continuing to stroll toward the huge pine tree which rested at the very top of the hill.

‹‹ **White Cut››**

The pine was even bigger when one stood directly in front of it, some ten feet away. At the trunk's base, some sort of reptilian creature was beginning to stir. Near the lowest jutting branches, a shimmering shroud of fur hung, glittering like how Percy imagined a pile of gold would.

"Golden Fleece?" he asked to himself. "Not something I see every day, but, demigods, I guess."

By way of Percy's speaking, the creature had woken. It wasn't very large. Nor did it intimidate Percy very much, considering it was about the size of an alligator. Two small puffs of smoke left its nostrils, and it did its best to hiss menacingly.

"Well hey there little buddy," Percy didn't deign to get closer, though that didn't stop him from trying to be friendly. "Are you on a mission?"

He took a single step. The alligator snapped its jaws, angry at his intrusion. Both of its slitted eyes were locked, drinking in every detail, be it appearance or action. The alligator was ready to attack.

Grover hadn't said anything about a guardian, so Percy was at a serious loss on how to go forward. He didn't want to subdue the 'gator, since he doubted the demigods would be happy with that.

Movement caught Percy's eye. He looked over and blinked. About a dozen blue eyes blinked back at him. The new _thing_ he was looking at was more human-like. In fact, it was almost human. But "almost" was still not quite "completely," and the discrepancy between this new _thing_ and ordinary people couldn't be more clear. Some said the eyes were a gateway into the soul. What Percy now stared at must have been very easy to read, then, because almost all of its unclothed body was covered in eyes. On its head, neck, hands, and exposed arms, the extra organs were honed on him.

Other than that, the creature might have passed for a regular surfer dude. It had stalk-like blond hair, pulled back into a very short ponytail, and wore blue jeans and a striped sleeveless shirt.

Percy waited for something to happen. Nothing did. Instead, the alligator, Eye-Guy, and Percy were in the perfect formation to start a Mexican stand-off.

"Bro," Percy looked at Eye-Guy and pointed at the alligator. "Your dog is snorting fire."

 **‹‹White Cut››**

As it would turn out, the alligator was actually a baby dragon called Peleus. In similar veins of knowledge, the Eye-Guy's real name was Argus, and he'd been created by Hera some few thousand years back to guard a cow.

The one who'd come and given Percy this information, Chiron, glanced down at him. "Any questions, young man?"

"Yeah. Has Argus ever lost at hide-and-seek?"

"Not in recent memory," Chiron said. Being a centaur, he was maybe a foot taller than Percy.

With combed brown hair, intense brown eyes, a graying beard, and the lower body of a horse, Chiron was both underwhelming and quite spectacular to inspect. Percy would have probably expected something else—maybe a wild hairstyle or a longer beard—while also picturing the legendary trainer with some similar traits. Really, it must have been the veritably potent gaze. Those eyes were ancient.

They stopped walking when they reached a large farmhouse, painted blue and four stories tall. A porch wrapped around the house's perimeter. Percy could see a vast expanse of water a mile down the valley he was in. Between the beach and the farmhouse were several other attractions: a pavilion with no roof, just free-standing columns; an amphitheater with plenty of seating; a sizable sandpit, where a volleyball net stood; a small lake with canoes moored near its shores, and by that was a massive climbing wall.

More to the left of the lake was an arrangement of buildings, varied in color. Just beyond lay a stretch of the valley which was wooded, the trees making it hard to see further in. There was an archery range, where several people shot at targets, right next to a large barn where several winged horses were being groomed. A few of those horses galloped through the air, gliding with riders on their backs, performing some pretty dangerous maneuvers.

"Quite the spectacle, isn't it?" Chiron asked, puffing his chest with some pride. "Welcome, to Camp Half-Blood."

Percy had never seen anything like it. Really, the valley was incredible. If the sun had been shining, it might have appeared even more utopian. He took a deep breath. The first thing he noticed was how crisp the air was. Living in Manhattan his whole life, pollution was the norm rather than the exception. Here, though, at Camp Half-Blood, nature didn't seem to be at odds with the inhabitants.

"It's awesome," Percy said.

Chiron led him up the porch's steps. "This is the Big House. You can leave your belongings by the door until we get you situated. Ah, Mr. D, meet our newest addition."

They walked to a group of three skittish satyrs sitting with a pudgy, genuinely ominous man. Sure, the Hawaiian shirt, red nose, and curly hair made him look a bit childish, but Percy felt his heartbeat pick up when Mr. D looked over with watery, bloodshot eyes which screamed danger. Then again, Grover had already warned him that "Mr. D" was actually Dionysus. This portly, baby-faced stranger was an Olympian god, powerful enough to send Percy straight to a mental hospital.

"Yes, yes, welcome to Camp Half-Blood…" The man trailed off and set the cards he'd been holding down. He turned his body, watching Chiron and Percy as they got closer. "Now, isn't this interesting. So it came to pass. What tumult the future will hold."

Mr. D crossed his arms, then turned back to the table. "Unfortunately, I'll be involved due to my position. I'm growing to dislike you, Percy Jackson. No, actually, I've already decided. You are certainly going to be one of my least favorite brats."

Percy looked at Chiron, who could do nothing but shrug. "Uh, sorry, have we met or something? If we have, let me just say, the raw material was good, so it must have been the synthesizing process that screwed things up."

"Save me the excuses, Jefferson. You'll be staying at cabin eleven. At least, until your mother claims you. Then we may as well put you in a cemetery. Why must my time always be wasted by dead men walking? Ghastly, this punishment. I tell you, Chiron, be glad your father doesn't have the sway to put you under house arrest."

"Mr. D… my father—"

"Bah! I know, I know! Go give the brat his tour already. But make it quick. Or better yet, summon one of those other insufferable children to do it." Mr. D waved his hand. A can of Diet Coke appeared on the table with a dull thud. "Maybe that Thessaly girl, or Anniebell. These incompetents"—he motioned to the satyrs around him—"can't play a good game of pinochle to save their lives. One day, I may actually raise the stakes up to that level and see if they face the challenge."

Chiron put a hand on Percy's shoulder. "No, I think I'll be the one to walk him around. Do save your energy for a hand with me, though."

 **‹‹White Cut››**

"And these are the cabins. We have one for each of the twelve Olympians," Chiron pointed at the structures that Percy had seen from afar. "I'm sure you can guess which cabin is associated with what god. Did Mr. Underwood tell you much of camp?"

Percy held a hand to his chin. "Not really. He seemed a bit distracted. I mean, he wasn't looking for me, but when he saw me messing with the roses, I guess he felt obligated to help."

He looked around some more and noticed a young girl kneeling by a huge stone-lined firepit. She was poking the glowing coals with a long stick, keeping the fire alive and healthy.

"Well, it certainly is odd he didn't smell you. Equally so that no monster has come for you. Usually, once a demigod reaches puberty, they begin to come into their own power. So too does their scent become stronger. Most of our new campers are guided here by satyrs around the age of eleven to thirteen. Very rarely do we see one as old as you arrive."

Percy shrugged helplessly. "Grover said I smelled like tuberose. Maybe it has something to do with my godly parent?"

"Possible. Plants, you said?"

Crouching, Percy tapped on the dirt with his finger. The grass around them doubled in quantity, and quadrupled in height, reaching up to his shins when he stood back up. He raised his hand further, making the grass stretch even taller.

"A most impressive control you have," Chiron muttered. Reaching down, he ran his fingers through the two-foot-tall blades of green. "Can you do this with all forms of plants? Can you do more?"

"I can do a lot more. Some of it… is dangerous… so I try not to. Some's uncomfortable, so I avoid that too. Other stuff is downright painful," Percy rubbed his arm sheepishly. "Most of the time, I just do this—grow and change the form of plants. But sometimes I think that's more than enough for me. Those other things I can do? It's inhuman."

Chiron chuckled, patting Percy's head lightly. "My boy, you'll find that everything here is inhuman. Your peers are all children of the gods, like you. I am half-horse. Mr. D is a god. We have satyrs, dryads, naiads, and nereids. I'm sure you can find a place for yourself here. This place can make you feel… not exactly human… but at least more normal. Accepted. I do hope you enjoy your stay."

"As for who your parent might be..." Chiron trailed off and looked back at the Big House. "We can probably assume it is _not_ Dionysus. He may dislike demigods, but he hasn't lied about his children in the past."

"That guy actually has _kids_? Like… with who?" Percy couldn't picture someone willingly jumping in bed with Mr. D. "Were they sober?"

Chiron shook his head. "It would be in your best interest to be careful what you say. He is a god, after all."

Percy made a face but conceded and heaved a sigh. "Yeah… good point. So if not him, then maybe it's Demeter? Mr. D said 'mother'. I haven't really tried growing wheat and stuff, though."

"Goddess of Agriculture she may be, however, rest assured she is chlorokinetic to the penultimate degree." Chiron gestured to cabin four—indicated by the great bronze numeral "4" above the door—which had tomato vines crawling on the walls and a roof made of grass.

"Penultimate?"

"The ultimate is, of course, the Earth Mother herself."

"Terra?"

"Gaea," Chiron corrected. He cast nervous glances around, then cleared his throat. "But she hasn't been around for a long time."

"She's immortal though, right?"

"Yes, however, she and the gods aren't friendly. If she were to be active, we would know, I assure you. Besides, if you were her child, your powers would extend beyond plants. The very Earth itself would be your birthright."

Percy scratched his neck. "I can't move rocks or anything like that. Tried it, didn't work out. Plants may be my limit. Well, I'm pretty strong too, physically speaking. I was always best at P.E."

Chiron nodded and, upon seeing someone behind Percy waved his hand a few times. "Many demigods are that way."

Turning around, Percy saw a group of four walking toward where he and Chiron stood. All of them were wearing the same orange T-shirt. They were talking between one another as they approached, but it was difficult to hear by their distance, and when they got closer, their voices dropped even further.

"Hey, Chiron," the only guy in the group spoke up first. He was a pretty big dark-skinned kid, with hands the size of catchers' mitts and a rigid face.

"Hello to you all," Chiron smiled at them. He put a hand on Percy's shoulder and guided him forward. "Would you like to introduce yourselves to a new camper? Grover found him just yesterday and directed him to us."

"Beckendorf." The tall dude held out his massive hand, which Percy shook, almost balking at how vice-like the grip felt. Beckendorf's face never lifted from its scrunched scowl. "Welcome to camp."

Next to him, a gorgeous girl with blue eyes and long black hair held out her own hand. "I'm Silena Beauregard. This guy's"—she stabbed her forefinger at Beckendorf—"first name is Charles. Don't worry, he isn't as scary as he looks. He just works in those forges all day, so his face is permanently stuck like that from looking at the fire."

"R-right." Percy couldn't imagine working near a fire for more than ten seconds.

"Nice to see a new face. Name's Thalia," the next person, a girl with light freckles across her nose and short black hair, nodded approvingly. Unlike Silena's, the blue in her eyes seemed electric and alive. Her black jeans were ripped, her black leather jacket hid most of the orange shirt beneath, and her shoes were purple Vans. It looked like she shopped exclusively at Hot Topic.

The last to introduce herself had her blonde hair tied in a ponytail. "Good to meet you. I'm Annabeth," she said, taking his offered hand and giving it a quick shake. Her eyes, an odd stormy-gray, seemed to analyze Percy intently. Like Beckendorf and Silena, she wore blue jeans with her shirt.

When Percy realized he'd been stuck picking out the details of their dress, he coughed. "My name's Percy Jackson."

"You met Grover?" Annabeth asked. She seemed eager to hear what he had to say.

"Yeah. Yesterday, when I was hanging out at Mad Square Park. I was messing with the plants, and he came up to me. Explained this whole… Greek thing to me."

"Messing with plants? Do you know your godly parent?" asked Silena. "You don't look like Pollux or Castor. So maybe not Mr. D. Your eyes are like Miranda's… green like fresh leaves… so maybe Demeter?"

"No use in guessing," Thalia mumbled. She looked at Percy. "If you're lucky they'll claim you at the bonfire tonight. If not, you might have to wait for some time."

He frowned. "Some gods don't claim their kids right away?"

Thalia hooked her thumbs into her front pockets. "Some don't claim their kids at all. Cabin eleven is overflowing. The Hermes cabin takes in unclaimed and minor demigods. Too many of them. Sometimes..."

She trailed off, and Annabeth took the chance to change subjects. "Did you make this grass tall?"

"That seems to be my forte." Percy waved his hand over the grass. It sunk back to the ground. "So who's your guys' godly parent?"

"Hephaestus." Beckendorf crossed his arms over his chest.

"Aphrodite," Silena said.

Annabeth glanced at Thalia, who was glowering at nothing. There was an awkward pause in the list where everybody seemed uncomfortable. Even Beckendorf had shifted his weight a few times in the span of a few seconds.

"Well, Athena is my mother. And Thalia—"

"Zeus." The clipped nature of Thalia's response tipped Percy off that he shouldn't bring the subject up lightly. Obviously, the girl had some problems with her father.

"Uh, nice to meet you all," Percy said. He looked at Chiron, who was still gazing at Thalia with sympathy. "So, is the tour over or…?"

"Yes, I do believe these four were just heading up to have lunch before I stopped them. Why don't you tag along?"

"I can do that."

"Excellent," Chiron smiled. He looked at the group. "Annabeth, Thalia, would you mind introducing Percy to Connor and Travis so they can acquaint him with cabin eleven."

They nodded. Though the awkward energy still lingered, Annabeth tried to sound normal. "Sure thing. Let's go to the mess hall. Oh, you'll want to keep an eye on your stuff. Children of Hermes are known to have sticky fingers."

Percy shivered. "They do it that often?"

Annabeth gave him a pitying smile. "Yup."

"Can't they use, like, tissues to clean up? Or wash their hands afterward?"

Beckendorf chuckled, and Silena wrinkled her nose. Thalia stifled her laugh, causing her to choke. Annabeth looked confused. Then, understanding what Percy had been referring to, her cheeks reddened.

"That… _that_ wasn't what I was talking about. I meant they're thieves," she quickly clarified.

Percy opened his mouth in an "O" and chuckled. "Gotcha. Yeah. My bad."

Chiron, apparently amused, took his hand off Percy's shoulder. "Ah, youth. Now, run along. You always want three square meals here at camp. Activities galore, Percy. Make sure to have fun!"

That being said, he cantered off, going back in the direction of the Big House. Percy stopped watching when Chiron finally left the area, turning back to face the group tasked to be his keeper. Behind them, the firepit was no longer being tended, the young girl probably having left sometime earlier.

"You up for some food, new guy?" Thalia asked.

"I could go for a bite. What's good here?"

"We've got BBQ, fresh bread, fruit, and basically anything you want to drink," Beckendorf supplied, counting off on his fingers. "Healthy stuff to keep us on a decent diet."

"No alcohol, though," Annabeth said.

Silena rolled her eyes. "Though I think the only one really broken up about that is Mr. D."

"Well, it all sounds delicious. A homey meal would probably do me some good after eating out so often," Percy said, his mind going back to the meals he'd eaten across Manhattan.

Thalia jerked her thumb to the mess hall. "Then let's go. What's with the flower, by the way?"

Percy took the plant out from behind his ear, holding it carefully. " _Datura stramonium_. Highly toxic. It's a good way to keep things all tame when night falls. Well, the plant is a night-blooming one. So maybe it actually makes sense to use it for that purpose?"

Annabeth looked at him oddly. "Okay. So you just wear that around?"

"What? No. What kind of weirdo do you think I am?" Percy chuckled, putting the flower back in place. "I eat it. Like I said, gotta keep things tame at night. It's hallucinogenic and acts as a deliriant. One of the better ways to stay relatively _me_ when the time comes."

The others looked alarmed. Silena's jaw, which had dropped, snapped back up. "You just said it was highly toxic."

"Yeah, I'm pretty resistant to that kind of stuff. You guys should steer clear, though. I grow these especially potent, so I only have to eat one or two. Just a piece of this flower's petal would kill a normal person."

"But you're okay eating the whole thing?" Beckendorf asked warily.

"More or less. It affects me, but in a good way. Don't the other Demeter kids have to do this?"

"Not that I know of," Silena muttered. "Katie and Miranda haven't told me anything like that. I've never seen them eating poisonous plants, either."

The news made Percy frown. He'd been under the impression—since Grover told him about demigods—that there were other people like him. But no such luck, apparently. He was still the odd one out.

"Guess it's just something I've gotta deal with," he said, heaving his shoulders. "But forget all that! Let's go eat. Then you can show me to the guys with the sticky fingers."


	2. Actually, That's Just Called Tyranny

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

2\. Actually, That's Just Called Tyranny

* * *

The dining pavilion, much like many of the other places around camp, was pretty grand in Percy's opinion. The columns framing the outer edge rose nearly two stories tall. Twelve stone tables, long enough to fit fifty or more campers a piece, were placed around a massive brazier the size of a bathtub.

"… and that's why, even though the columns are of the Doric order, they rise well above a typical Doric height. This may be personal bias, but I think Ionic would look… Percy?" Annabeth, who'd been explaining something about the reasons for why things had been modeled as they were, looked at him curiously.

"Uh… I was listening… Doric, Ionic, Carolinian—"

"Corinthian," Annabeth supplied.

"Isn't that what I said?"

Silena and Thalia chuckled when Annabeth crossed her arms. Beckendorf could only shake his head. They didn't seem as tired as Percy felt from listening to what Annabeth was saying. Then again, if she usually talked so much about architecture, he could understand why they'd need to build up a resistance to it.

"Gee, we'd love to hear you explain more to the new guy, but I smell some chicken callin' my name," Thalia said, patting Annabeth on the shoulder. "You can show him to the Stolls, right? After all, you're the expert on how sticky their fingers are."

With a wink and a poor attempt at hiding her snickering, Thalia left toward the furthest table. Silena and Beckendorf said their own goodbyes, beating a hasty retreat to different groups.

Annabeth grumbled something unintelligible in Thalia's general direction.

"Why's everyone splitting up?" Percy asked.

"We can't sit at another god's table," she said, gesturing with her hand vaguely. "Apollo kids sit at one table, Athena at another, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hermes, so on and so forth. Chiron enforces the rule."

"What happens if we mix-and-match? The gods don't actually get angry, right?" Percy laughed at the thought of something so petty setting them off.

Annabeth shrugged, a bit tight in the shoulders. "Not all of them, not all the time. Depends on their mood. Just like you can't be in another god's cabin without permission. Unless it's urgent, I'd follow those rules if I were you."

"You can't be serious…" Percy scratched his arm. He gulped when her flat stare lingered on him. "Wow. Okay, I'll, uh, take your word for it."

"Probably for the best," she said, pointing at a group of kids eating. They were similar in that all of them looked too serious. "There's my table. We sometimes have study time at breakfast or lunch."

He grimaced. Studying wasn't one of his strong points. Sitting down at a table, opening a book, and staring at words on a page didn't appeal to him much.

"And over there," Annabeth pointed at the most populated table, "is cabin eleven's. Let's go."

Percy followed after her, quickly taking out a leaf from his jacket pocket and throwing it in his mouth. He ground the plant with his molars, turning it into a bitter, pulpy mess that easily slid down his throat. A distinct headiness rushed over him. With a final, involuntary shiver, he stopped next to Annabeth.

"Connor, Travis," she greeted them, jabbing her thumb at Percy. "Got a new camper for you."

Several people at the table took notice. They looked at each other, shaking their heads slowly, some even going as far as to groan audibly. One person asked, "Regular or undetermined?"

Percy glanced over, his head jerking more violently than he'd expected; the coca had taken effect far too quickly this time around, which worried him. He wasn't usually so jittery. Annabeth eyed him curiously as he scratched his jaw.

"Un…" she trailed off. Her stare had grown incredibly intense. Eventually, she shook her head and said, "Undetermined."

A chorus of groans erupted from everyone at the table. Several of the campers looked sullen and defeated. Others had an odd twinkle in their eye. Percy knew the look of mischievous mindsets when he saw them. Some at the table seemed like trouble.

"Heya!" A boy with upturned eyebrows greeted Percy with a crooked grin, a few too many teeth showing for it to be completely innocent. "Name's Connor. Best counselor of cabin eleven since ever. Nice to meet ya." He stuck his hand out, not even trying to hide the joy buzzer he palmed.

"Oh..."

"Don't listen to him," said another guy who looked almost identical to Connor. "Everyone knows _I'm_ the best counselor. I'm the fun one. Travis, at your service. What's your name, new guy?"

Percy shifted in place. He tentatively took Connor's middle finger and shook it gently, avoiding the buzzer. "Percy. Good meeting you both, I guess."

"You guess? Yikes, are we getting another buzz-kill?" Connor slid the toy from his finger and set it down. "First one's free."

"First what?"

"I think you know."

Percy's eyes darted around to the smirking faces gathered at the table. "No, I—I don't actually."

"Pranks," Annabeth crossed her arms. "They give each new camper a free pass on their first prank. These two have a mission to prank everybody at camp at least twice before..."

"Before?"

Travis and Connor looked at one another. Then, Travis shrugged. "Before they're killed. Most demigods don't make it to adulthood. Less live past their mid-twenties. A literal handful die peacefully, at a ripe age."

Pity lanced Percy through the chest. He was dimly aware of a peal of dry, sardonic laughter from somewhere. He reached for what lay behind his ear. Before his fingers could brush the white petals, he stopped, reconsidered, and held himself back. To make the movement look natural, he instead tousled his hair violently.

"I didn't know," Percy muttered. "Sorry."

Connor gave him a toothy grin. "Why're you sorry? Your odds are probably as good as ours. You're one of us too."

Percy blinked and rolled the words around in his brain. Slowly, he began to nod along, a wide smile of his own replacing what had once been bitter. "Yeah, I guess I am."

‹‹ **White Cut››**

When lunch ended with Percy's stomach full of fantastic food, he had wanted to do nothing more than make his way into the woods. Instead, he was led away by the Stolls, who'd told the rest of the Hermes cabin to practice archery. Now, Percy stood at the threshold of cabin eleven, staring at the rough wood panels of the structure's exterior.

At lunch, he'd seen the wood nymphs, dryads, waiting on tables. When they'd come his way, though, most had bent reverentially; some had even fallen to their knees and prostrated themselves.

Percy had been suitably unnerved at the latter reaction. But, for some reason, the former had drawn a lesser visceral sense of wrongness. Instead, it touched him as being awkward—though not wrong. He wasn't sure what to make of that feeling and so chose to ignore it.

Due to the dryads' bold actions, Percy was hoping for answers. He'd tried asking them in the dining area, but jokes from the Hermes table and the general inhibited nature of the distressed nymphs led to them scurrying away.

They'd thrown him several hasty apologies, of course, and a few, in particular, had caught his ear.

" _Forgive me, my lord!"_

Percy gazed at the trees, wanting to speak with some of the nymphs before nightfall. He was nobody's "lord" after all.

"Hoping to chase after some of your beautiful subjects, oh great king?" Travis jabbed Percy in the ribs lightly with his bony elbow. "I can understand why. Some of those dryads are ten out of ten."

"If nature spirits are your thing," Connor added, pushing the door open, letting it creak ominously. "Welcome to the cabin of misfits. Let's see… finding you some space shouldn't be too hard. Usually, summer is worse when it comes to cramped quarters."

They walked in, and Percy noticed his duffel bag was already on the floor, between a pair of three-tiered bunk-beds.

"That's my stuff," he pointed. "How'd it get here?"

Travis shrugged carelessly. "Chiron probably had a nymph or satyr bring it over."

"Looks like you've already got a spot all picked out for you," Connor said, patting Percy on the back. "Congrats! You got anything good in there?"

Percy gave the brothers a suspicious glare. "Nothing worth stealing."

Neither was offended, grinning from ear-to-ear and giving each other a meaningful glance. Percy slid around them. He beelined for his bag, throwing it onto the nearest bed, asking, "How long will I stay here?"

"At least until you're claimed," Travis said.

"Or for the rest of your years here, until you die a horribly painful death in the jaws of an abomination." Connor picked his ear with his ring finger.

"Or until you get sick of us and decide to leave."

Connor nodded. "Yeah, that's possible too."

Percy massaged his shoulder, attention shifting to the cabin as a whole. It was pretty small, which made him wonder why nobody could extend it to accommodate the number of kids. If the summer saw more campers than winter, then there would be some who didn't get to sleep in a bed, since there were only eight of the bunks total.

An unkind voice whispered to him, nagging at his thoughts, leading him to question why Hermes would allow his own cabin to be in such a sorry state. The wood walls were scratched and scored, marked by time and people alike.

There was even some rust creeping along the metal posts on some of the bunks. Those beds seemed like a tetanus epidemic waiting to happen.

"So how're you handling the whole 'learning I'm part god' thing, Percy?" Travis asked, leaning against the wall. "Need us to reassure you this isn't a dream? We have plenty of pranks that would work."

Percy sat on the bed he'd been granted. "I'd say I'm not too in denial. It's still a bit surreal, right, but at the same time, it feels… nice. I like it here already."

"You gonna be with us year-round?"

"I think so," Percy said. He ran his hand over the sheets slowly. "I'd rather stay here than go back to where I was before."

"Bad relatives?" Connor cocked his head.

"I wasn't locked in a cupboard if that's what you're asking."

Travis smirked. "Well, that's good."

Nodding, Percy scratched the dead walls, wondering if he could do something about them. "So, Chiron said there were 'activities galore' or something along those lines. What's that all about?"

‹‹ **White Cut››**

Percy stood as he'd been told, his stance open, right arm forming a line with his left. He took a breath, peered at the target downrange one more time, then loosened his fingers. There was a soft rush of noise and a dull clack as his arrow skewered the block of foam. He relaxed, lowering his bow and frowning at his technical miss. He'd hit outside the paper target.

"That was better," Lee Fletcher came over, looking at the target. "I noticed your elbow is still pointing down. Try and rotate it out, so that if you bend your arm, the elbow goes to the side. It'll probably feel weird, but you get used to it at some point."

"'Kay," Percy gestured for more ammunition. The vine he'd grown earlier reached over, blindly fumbling for the closest object. Percy sighed. "Left… left… you're there… right… right… stop! Pick it up… no… firmly grasp it. There, now hand it over."

The vine lifted a new arrow from the upright quiver and gave it to Percy, who smiled, tickling the plant with a few moves of his fingers. "Good job. We still need to work on your coordination, but that's okay. We'll get there sooner rather than later."

"I think it's trying to dance," Lee said, leaning closer to the vine, which was doing a little wiggle in place, still preening from Percy's attention. "So can the plant actually understand you?"

Percy stopped drawing the bowstring. "No… I like to pretend it can, though. It moves because I want it to. Isn't that right, Ivan?"

The vine, Ivan, bobbed in agreement. Percy smiled again. "And there you go. It's easier when I'm gesturing or really concentrating."

Lee nodded a bit and walked further down the line of archers. Percy aimed again, following Lee's advice.

His next few shots didn't improve at all, some of them not even hitting the foam at all, let alone the target. He set the bow in Ivan's waiting grasp, coaxing the vine to hold it tightly while Percy shook his arm out. Just beyond the archery range were the woods, where he imagined those wood nymphs lived.

With the day slowly winding down, there wouldn't be a better time to seek them out until tomorrow. Having no intention of being patient, Percy edged away from his lane, taking the long route to the first row of trees. Nobody called after him, and soon he was entering nature's cityscape.

The scent of sap and earth rose to greet him upon his approach, acidic undertones almost masked by the potent sweetness. He breathed in, then exhaled through his mouth, eyes closing contentedly. The canopy above him was not made of concrete and glass like in the city. Here, leaves and branches gave shade from the inconsistent winter sun as it tried to break through the clouds.

Slipping between the first dozen trees, he roamed further down an untrod path. A frown crossed his face when he noticed most of the trees were deciduous, and still had all of their leaves, far past the typical time of shedding.

Percy came to a slow stop. He crouched, digging the tips of his fingers into the moist soil, breathing through his connection to the vegetation around him and soaking as much information as he could. The world lost focus, his vision encroached upon by frayed darkness, like spears of black iron touching the edge of his eyesight. The grass sang to him of its richness. Bushes entertained him with stories of their growth and prosperity within the camp's borders. When he reached out to the trees, however, he was brought to an unexpected halt.

Resistance met his silent questions, and he could feel each birch, maple, and oak in the immediate area tense up. A buzz of angry words filtered into his head. Those speaking were all vaguely feminine, though perhaps, Percy thought, androgynous would have described them just as well. He tried to get their attention but failed to make his own voice heard above the crescendo of vexation bearing down on him.

He ended his part of the discourse, pulling his fingers from the dirt and standing up again, just in time to see bodies melting from the trees around him.

Thirty dryads glared as they came into the world. Hair colors varied from blonde to brown, with some blues, violets, and pinks thrown into the mix. A decent number of the girls had a green tinge to their pigmentation.

Most of them seemed annoyed.

He looked for the closest spirit and found a fair-skinned girl standing with her arms crossed. She tossed her long brown hair back haughtily, striding up to Percy. The narrowed eyes and stomping feet made her displeasure clear. She wore a rather plain Greek dress that ended just above her knees.

Percy wondered what he'd done to upset the tree spirits so much. He prepared to defend himself, a familiar entwining sensation curling up his spine. The girl, however, froze a few feet in front of him. Her eyes widened, and she fell to her knees, bowing until her head touched the dirt.

All around, the others followed her example, dropping to the ground hard and fast. Percy shivered at the sight. He wasn't sure what to do. Eventually, after several long seconds, the first girl raised her upper body, still kneeling before him. Her gaze sparkled with something Percy couldn't place.

"My lord," she started, averting her eyes and looking back at his shoes. "I—I apologize for my anger. We didn't expect you to visit… had we known… I assure you we would have prepared a banquet!"

"Uh… that's okay?" Percy struggled to find a way to respond. "No big deal. The food from earlier was delicious."

The girl shook her head. "Surely that couldn't have been enough! We would have given you a spread, here, in the grove. Fit for one such as yourself, my lord. Please, let us find a way to amend. Would you have us prepare one for you now?"

"Ah, no, no, that's not what I came here for."

"My lord? Do you have something else you wish for us to do?"

Percy nodded slowly. This was good. "Could I ask you some things? I just found out about being a half-blood, so it's been an interesting day."

The girl pursed her lips. She glanced around, then breathed a sigh filled with tension. "What questions would have us answer, my lord?"

"Okay, you really don't have to call me that."

"My lord?"

"Yeah, it's pretty awkward."

Confusion flashed on her face, and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "I don't understand. H-have I done something to offend? Please, I meant nothing by my initial reaction toward you. When you intruded upon the vegetation here, we naturally rose up in its defense. I'm deeply sorry if our impudence—"

Percy, though reluctant, cut her off before she could keep apologizing. "It's not that. I guess… it's just kinda weird. Why do you call me that anyway?"

She gave him an odd stare. "Because… because you are my lord. It would be beneath you for a dryad to refer to you as something lesser."

"Okay, but _why_ do you consider me your lord? What did I do to earn that title?"

At that, the dryad's eyes began to sparkle again. She looked about ready to throw herself at him. "You revived her. Mother of the Forest. And then you went on to save Methuselah. There is no one else we would rather raise on high but you, my lord."

Percy frowned. "How'd you know about that?"

He hadn't said anything of how he'd spent his spring break in California, healing a dead tree and sustaining a dying one. Mother of the Forest, once a grand organism, had been killed by human vanity. He'd wanted to try and fix the mistake.

Methuselah, still persevering as one of the oldest known non-clonal trees, a symbol of tenacity. He'd wanted to sustain life.

"They told us." The dryad's words made Percy scratch his arm.

"Told you? Were… were they wood nymphs too?"

"Yes. Methuselah is old, one of the oldest dryads still around. Her state when you visited was near catatonic. Now I hear she's feeling as lively as when the gods didn't have to hide as much."

Percy raised his eyebrows. "But… Mother of the Forest… was dead."

The dryad nodded. "Most of her, yes, but not all. A piece of her spirit lay dormant in the flesh of her dead body, that giant sequoia. You brought her back. Both she and Methuselah wish to meet you—their savior, their lord—in person. You left before they were well enough to leave their homes. It was they who told the story of a young lord, smelling of tuberose and feeling of vespertine qualities. It was _you_ they spoke of."

"Is that so?" he sighed. Tapping the tip of his shoe to the ground a few times, he willed the grass to rise and multiply. It grew, hundreds becoming thousands, twisting around the other nearest blade, forming thick cords. He fell back into the chair of grass he'd made, slouching down so he could kick his legs out.

"I heal a few trees and get an entire race to bow to me." Percy ran a hand over his face, shaking his head ruefully. "What kind of trade is that?"

"If I may say, my lord," the girl started, "not all the nature spirits will see you as we do. The naiads, nereids, aurae, and nebulae certainly won't be bowing to you."

Percy sagged a bit in relief. "Good, good."

"And there are some dryads even who believe they have only one true ruler. Be careful around those types, my lord. Their fanaticism to her has long since crossed into the territory of violent zealotry."

"One ruler. The Earth Mother?"

"Yes, but let us not discuss her," the girl jerked her head. "Do you have any other inquiries to make of us, my lord?"

Tipping his eyes down to where she still kneeled, Percy chewed the inside of his lip. "Do you know who my mother is?"

"We do." Her answer came curtly, voice unable to carry the same sharpness as it slipped into melancholy. "We are also disallowed from speaking of it. Should we do so, wrath will descend upon us as it did from Achilles to Hector."

There came a pause in their conversation. Percy took his time to think of what it meant to have a mother who didn't want him to know about her. His teeth ground together, giving a dull squeak that echoed in his skull.

Around him, the nymphs fiddled from their positions. Though he'd been higher when standing, the grass chair was still raised enough, so he technically towered over those around him. It was an innocuous detail, but one he noted as almost banal. They saw him as their lord, and there he sat on a throne. He must have been doing a piss-poor job of ensuring they didn't think of him as superior.

But, be that as it may, he still felt the nagging cynicism in the back of his mind.

He kept his silence until he checked the time. In one quick motion, he stood. "Sorry to leave you, but I've gotta get down to the arena. I promised to meet my councilors there once archery was done."

"Then I must apologize again," the nymph bowed her head. "We've kept you from training, which we know is important for your continued survival. As you are, however, I must admit I find it odd you would consider using weapons when you have your abilities."

"To be honest," Percy clicked his tongue, "I prefer a good fist fight. Growing up… well, it's a good way to relieve stress. Not so good when the other guy has a knife, though."

"I can imagine. My lord… would—would you like some company to the arena? It's a bit of a walk, and I wouldn't want to leave you unattended, of course." She no longer looked at any part of his body, intently staring at the ground, her fingers fidgeting.

Percy swept his eyes across the other dryads' forms. All of them moved their heads to the side when he looked at them. "Sure. I'd be happy having someone to talk to. Sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

"Aspen!" The girl before him almost squealed, gazing up to meet his eye. "Thank you for the opportunity!"

Smiling, he offered his hand to pick her up. For a few seconds, all Aspen did was stare at the outstretched limb, as if she were greatly honored and hard-pressed to accept. Her own hand went up to meet his but stopped short just as their fingers were about to brush. Cheeks flushed, she stood on her own, pulling her arm back hastily.

Percy shook his head and glanced around. "Well, let's get going then."

"Yes, my lord," Aspen nodded dutifully.

They began walking out of the woods, with the girl moving a respectable distance to the side. When Percy didn't hear any other footsteps, he frowned and turned around. The other dryads were watching them go, unable to conceal the overall atmosphere of disappointment.

"You all don't wanna come too?" he asked.

They seemed startled when he addressed them. One girl asked hopefully, "May we accompany you, my lord?"

"Well, yeah. The more, the merrier, right Aspen?" Percy glanced at his companion, who hesitated for the briefest of moments before nodding enthusiastically.

"Of course," Aspen said, clearing her throat and checking her nails. "Yes, if that is your wish, my lord, then let us make it so."

‹‹ **White Cut››**

Connor clasped his hands together, face contorting into something close to mildly pathetic. "So this is why you ditched archery practice! You went out, used your rightful authority, and created a massive nymph harem! Teach me your ways, oh great emperor!"

Percy's ears grew hot as he tried to shush his counselor. Some people who were entering the arena gave them strange looks. "That's not what happened at all! I didn't create a harem," he hissed.

"Then what do you call this?" Connor gestured at the group of dryads. They were mostly huddled together several feet from Percy, talking and occasionally shooting him furtive glances. Only Aspen remained close to his side, which Percy took advantage of.

"Tell him I didn't create a harem," he whispered to the nymph.

Aspen, looked at him, smiling. "Leave it to me." She cleared her throat and put her hands on her hips. "My lord did not create a harem, Stoll. He is a good and righteous man, I can already tell."

Percy nodded passionately. He thought that would end it, but Aspen decided to keep on talking, becoming more fervent as her words slipped out. "However, if he ever chose a life of debauchery and carnal depravity, many among us would happily become his concubines. He need not even force or persuade us; we would be willing to serve him as he saw fit, for our lord is one we have chosen."

"Aspen!" Percy rubbed his eyes, exasperated. Pictures of dryads in several stages of undress came to mind, each image growing more visceral and intimate, culminating in thoughts of how they could serve him in the throes of "carnal depravity".

He shivered at the reel of footage going through his brain, throat suddenly dry. When he looked at Aspen, she gave him a single thumbs-up, expression showing nothing but cheer. "Don't worry, my lord, I have your back."

Percy gave her a tight smile and chanced a look around. Some people who'd been curious about the conglomeration of nymphs had apparently overheard the conversation. Most of the bystanders moved on when they saw him glance their way, shaking heads a common theme among them. Many seemed perturbed.

Travis gently put a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Teach me."

"Hell no!"

‹‹ **White Cut››**

"What was with that commotion outside?" Thalia asked, looking over the racks of weapons.

Percy didn't want to lie to her since he was sure word would get out eventually, but he'd be damned if he told her the full truth. "Just arguing with the Stolls. Those guys are..."

"Annoying?" she suggested.

Percy smirked. "Hard to handle."

"Very diplomatic." Thalia took a shiny sword, inspected it, then turned and let him take the handle. "I've got a good feeling about you, Percy. Don't know why, don't really care why, but demigods trust their gut. Mine's telling me you're good people."

"I'm good people?"

She smiled. "It's something I heard a couple of months back. I'd been waiting for a chance to use it, and, well, you gave it to me."

"Is that why you're taking the time to help me?" He'd noticed, while watching with Connor and Travis from the sidelines, that Thalia acted as a general overseer for combat training.

Mostly, she helped kids use spears against training dummies, though she offered advice to everybody from time to time. She was even on the wrestling mat more than once, demonstrating how to reverse an attempted takedown. Percy admitted she could probably crush him in terms of athleticism.

"Yeah, something like that. You might wanna get rid of the jacket," she said, leading him to an empty spot by the training dummies. Some people pointed in their direction, slowing in their own practice to watch. From the edge of the arena, gathered between the multitude of columns, the dryads observed intently.

Aspen nodded at him encouragingly. Though still a bit miffed at what she'd said before, he gave a smile and wave, which made her look away. He took Thalia's advice and placed his jacket to the side. Pulling the sleeves of his shirt up, he checked the sun.

If the spar went on past twilight, he'd have to leave. Normally he wouldn't have been fighting at all given the time. But, he reasoned there couldn't be much harm in a bit of exercise and training. He was fascinated with swords, as he figured any young man would be, so getting the chance to use one excited him.

Unfortunately, he was about to have a practice session with Thalia, who Travis had qualified as the best fighter in camp since some guy named Luke.

Thalia gestured for him to get closer to her. "Alright, let's run through some basics, then we can get to light sparring."

The guidance was less hands-on than Percy expected, with Thalia mostly just modeling for him and giving him tips on what not to do. When he asked her about the lack of actual training, she dismissed the question, telling him many demigods were combat-oriented and that he'd probably pick it up quickly.

"Okay!" Thalia shrugged off her jacket and pulled her camp shirt over her head, leaving her in a black tank top. The dryads had explained that inside Camp Half-Blood's borders, the weather tended to remain nice, rarely scorching or freezing, though there were exceptions. "Ready to go?"

There was one wolf-whistle from the spectator crowd, which now included more campers. Thalia's eyes narrowed and shot over, making everyone shuffle awkwardly. She huffed.

"Boys."

He didn't bother pointing out it could have been a girl to make the noise. Hell, he agreed with that person's opinion on Thalia's appearance. She was hot, no doubt. Then again, he had yet to see an unattractive half-blood at camp. Even those two sons of Dionysus were better looking than their father.

Thalia brought out a can of mace from her pocket, which transformed into a spear. Percy tried not to look at the mild swell of her breasts, thoughts of a nymph harem and "carnal depravity" still floating around his head.

"I won't use my shield… for now. I hope I was right about you," she nodded her head, signaling her willingness to begin. "Don't worry about getting a bit roughed up. We've got nectar on standby, just in case."

Percy took his own position. He drew a breath in. Though he had no clue what nectar was, Thalia sounded unconcerned, so he chose to take the advice at face value.

"You ever get in a fight before?" Thalia asked, delaying their start a bit more. He was grateful for the extra time she gave.

"I've got a bit of experience. Nothing like this, though."

"Anything dangerous?"

Percy bit his lip. He looked at the sky again. The dark was coming, but something held him back, and so his free hand didn't rise to take the flower from behind his ear. "I learned a few things."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Knives typically cut fists, so bringing fists to a knife fight is a good way to lose blood."

She winced at that. "Okay then, sorry I asked. Ready?"

"Sure."

The weapon he grasped was double-edged and leaf-shaped, the blade less than two feet long. It was a xiphos, or so Thalia told him. He wasn't sure why she recommended it over the other weapons on the racks, which each held a good variety. All of the equipment on display was made of Celestial bronze, which could harm both monsters and half-bloods alike.

Percy shifted on his feet, and Thalia took that as her moment to attack. No stranger to pointy objects racing to gut him, Percy moved aside. The sword in his hand made it a bit awkward to maneuver, but he managed to get out of the way before the spearhead embedded itself in his stomach.

Given no safety in retreat, he was again forced to dodge when Thalia aimed at his shoulder. He tracked the spear's movement, taking his eyes off Thalia for a second. She wasted no time in showing him why doing so was a bad idea. As she retracted her spear, she sent her leg at his knee, connecting forcefully.

He buckled, wincing at the sharp kick. Thankfully, she didn't press further, opting to circle him carefully. No doubt she was giving him a breather, probably hoping he would digest his mistakes and learn.

When his knee stopped throbbing, Percy chose to take an aggressive approach. He knew getting closer would be a necessity. Her spear afforded her good ways of attack without putting herself at much risk.

Moving forward, he narrowly sidestepped another thrust. He slipped beyond the tip of her spear and raised his sword. Before he could bring it down, she pushed into his space, using her elbow to strike just beneath his sternum.

With the wind drawn up and out of his lungs, Percy staggered away, coughing. Thalia didn't wait this time, drawing the spearhead across his jaw.

The cut was mild by his estimate and barely hurt. He felt blood begin to lazily travel down his neck. Pain was never really an issue with him anyway.

Percy continued in his effort to break past Thalia's staunch defense. Every time he felt he got close, she was ready to aggress with some impressive speed. Her reactions were able to repel him with each swing he attempted. A few more cuts were added to his body, totaling five, none of which worried him.

"Not bad," she commented, pushing, away for the tenth time. "Not good, but not bad. It may be too early to try out, but do you mind if I use my shield?"

Shrugging, he said, "Go for it."

Thalia slapped the bracelet on her wrist. A disk expanded from the accessory. On the front was the likeness of some monster, a scream of rage twisting its metal visage. Percy recoiled, taking two steps back upon realizing the creature could be none other than Medusa, what with the snakes she had in place of hair. Though he hadn't turned to stone, instinct told him to avoid staring.

Gathering his wits, he decided to try and play defensively. When Thalia noticed he wasn't coming for her, she went to meet him instead. Advancing slowly, shield and spear raised, each step she took was sure.

They circled one another. Percy found himself backing away more in the face of her shield. Now she had a lot more options. He licked his lips. Just as he went to move away again, Thalia jabbed. Percy went to parry but met with nothing when she pulled and redirected her spear. The head nearly grazed his thigh. He'd managed to quirk his legs to the side in time, and used the opening to attack.

He tried to get around her defense, only to have his sword knocked out of his grip. Thalia had swung her shield to disarm him. Without a weapon, Percy was left with his bare hands.

At that moment, staring down a princess of the sky, armed with nothing but fists and intuition, Percy couldn't quite place what he felt. One thing he did know was that as the fight progressed, there was an underlying current of mollification as if he were placating someone.

Even as Percy received another gash to his ribs, he didn't grow irritated. Instead, he jumped forward, letting the spear cut further. Thalia, caught unaware, couldn't pull away before his fingers closed around the top of her shield, yanking it to the side.

His other hand shot out and grabbed hold of her spear, keeping it in place.

With both arms occupied, he did the only other thing that came to mind: headbutt. Their foreheads collided, which he recognized as an amateur mistake. Aiming for the nose was a much better strategy.

Preparing to strike again, the only warning of impending danger was a slight crackling and a flash of blue-purple light. Pain flared in Percy's body, running down each nerve and making his hair stand on end. He let go of her gear and stumbled away, muscles convulsing as he fell to the ground.

The mollification was gone. He looked at the sky from his position on the cold concrete. It was dusk. Closer to night than to twilight. His eyes went wide as the spasms passed. He grabbed the datura and stuffed it into his mouth. The bitterness was overwhelming.

He'd been later than normal. Nightfall was his deadline. It had been his deadline for the past four years, and ever since he'd found a way to defer his payments, he hadn't accidentally missed a single one.

But he didn't miss this one, did he? The question was impossible to answer. At least, it would have been, had he not heard the rustle of leaves and the clicking of his vertebrae. Closing his eyes, the gasps from his audience didn't surprise him, nor did the sudden sensation of branches crawling through his veins, digging into his muscles.

Dusk passed, and in its place, night fell.

‹‹ **Black Cut››**

Thankfully, his world didn't distort or stretch, as it could have done. Percy savored the familiar touch of cracked, knotted wood as it drew circles on his face. He opened his eyes and sat up. The sky was almost entirely dark, and he was feeling peculiar. Each move came accompanied by lethargy, grotesque and unwieldy.

He stood on unsteady legs, examining his hands intensely. Behind him, the sounds of cracking and crunching came to his ears. For the time, he ignored it, focusing on curling each finger. The air was fresh, unlike the poison he was used to in New York City. Nature felt strong—stronger yet when he accounted for his creation, who still waited patiently.

"Barely," he muttered, glancing around. His head stopped when he spotted his creation. A full seven feet tall, she was an imposing thing. "Ranavalona. It's been a while. You're looking… scary, as per usual. Keep it up."

Ranavalona tilted her head down to appraise Percy, though she had no eyes. Her skin, cracked and warped and knotted, was actually just whitish tree bark, pulled taught over an interior made entirely of small vines that acted like muscles. She opened her mouth, the rotting, crooked teeth clacking together multiple times. The empty, jagged sockets where her eyes should have been hadn't left his form.

Percy sighed and nodded. He knew she would leave. Not even his daughter wanted to stay with him, and the thought brought his mood down a bit. "I know. It was close. You can go if you want."

There was hesitance in her posture, but she disintegrated into small wood chips regardless. Spinning on his heel, Percy turned to address those present. He could see confusion prevalent in the crowd. The dryads, however, cowered. Aspen looked appalled and stricken. He bit his lip, a hint of guilt at the thought of how he'd made his daughter.

"Percy?" Thalia called for him, tentative in her approach.

He turned to face her. "What's up?"

"Are… are you okay?"

Percy tested his range of motion. "I feel fine. Stiff. Annoying droning in my head. Other than that I'm good. Maybe take it easy with the sparks next time. Or give me a warning by yelling 'Shazam!' first."

Thalia shook her head. "Maybe we should stop. You seem a bit off."

"Really?" Percy examined himself. Apart from the lethargy, and the dull pressure in the base of his skull, he felt fine. "Well, I guess my feet still tingle."

"That's not what I…" Thalia scrunched her face. "What was that tree thing?"

"Ranavalona?" He wrinkled his nose. "Family, I suppose? I created her when I was younger. Tried to make myself a friend. It didn't work out. Apparently giving sentience to a dead tree is a good way of creating monstrosities. She tried to kill me—and maybe I deserved that—but eventually I managed to reel her in. We're on good terms now. She's a bit overprotective. And shy."

"You consider something like _that_ shy? It was ter—riff…" Thalia trailed off, and her eyes went above his head.

"What?" He frowned and looked up. There, a stationary holographic image floated. The picture was of three flowers partially occluding a bright yellow sun.

The noise of hooves clicking on stone drew his attention. Chiron had made his way into the crowd, the little girl who'd tended the firepit standing beside him. She gestured for him to stoop down so she could whisper in his ear.

After they exchanged a few words, Chiron walked forward purposefully, his expression grim. Once in front of Percy, he folded his front legs and bowed, an action the rest of the audience mimicked, excluding the young fire-girl at the back, who looked at him with pity.

"Hail, Percy Jackson," Chiron's voice carried well in the arena. "Son of Persephone, goddess of springtime, flowers, and vegetation; Queen of the Underworld."

Suddenly, the night seemed colder and darker. Each person's shadow elongated and bloated. Ice crept along the ground. With a great roar, the concrete behind Percy tore open. From the maw was launched a spear of fire.

Percy had already twisted around. He flicked his wrist, and the flaming spear came to an abrupt halt, two feet from his face.

Ranavalona had returned, her gnarled, branch-like fingers wrapping themselves around the spear. Her body was soon alight, but she made no noise, even as her form withered to ash. The weapon disintegrated with her. Percy narrowed his eyes and took several steps back. Fire wasn't exactly his friend.

"What was that?" he asked, watching as the ground slammed shut. He still felt his connection to his daughter, though he'd expected nothing less. She was his knight. He was her king. As such, she was his ultimate protector. He'd molded her body from the _Ficus aurea_ , the strangler fig, and used himself as the host. As long as he lived, so too would Ranavalona, whether she wanted to or not.

Chiron's face was defeated. "It would seem that your mother's husband is less than pleased. Unfortunate, too; Hades is known for holding grudges."

Percy wasn't entirely sure what to make of that but took it to mean he'd just made an enemy out of a god. He nodded slowly and looked at his hands again.

He'd formed a nymph harem, dusk had come, Ranavalona had manifested, and now Hades wanted him dead. The day had been hectic, and somehow it wasn't even dinner yet.

* * *

 **A/N: I figured Hades wouldn't take kindly to his wife supposedly breaking their marriage vows, even if he's done it before. With Adonis, since the dude already died via boar, Hades probably didn't feel very vindicated.**

* * *

 **Geust 123- Thanks!**


	3. Behind the Boathouse

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO and all.**

* * *

3\. Behind the Boathouse

* * *

Though things felt to be changing in his life, Percy hadn't, in good conscience, let his morning routine suffer for it. Over the few days he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the events of his claiming still fresh, he had yet to fail in rising well before dawn. Friday was no exception.

Then again, neither did he typically take the weekends to sleep in, Saturday and Sunday were just two more days on the calendar when it came to overall health. As he stepped out onto cabin eleven's porch Friday morning, he stopped to marvel at the firepit again, which he hadn't seen out since arriving. A fire danger it might have been, but he admired the dedication that strange little girl put into keeping it going. He'd have to talk to her one day and find out why she did it.

Taking the steps down, he felt the grass pull upward, its effort to reach his hands growing more intense with each passing second. Percy chuckled at the devout tendencies vegetation had started showing him. Once he'd learned his mother was Persephone—a strange thing to accept, being the acknowledged child of an actual goddess—revelations had fallen on his head faster than he could track.

It made more sense now. Everything felt just a little bit easier to digest. Doing what he did still strike him as a bit strange, but he wouldn't call it terribly abnormal. Apart from his powers, he still had a phantom itch where his skull and spine met, giving him some odd moments of vertigo. As far as he could tell, though, it wasn't something he should worry over.

Percy calmed the grass, watching as it drooped back down, almost as if it were dejected. Sighing, he squatted and ran his fingernails through the blades, offering his touch indulgently. Nature loved him more now, though his thoughts on nature hadn't changed much. It was an unrequited yearning, then, which drove the grass to curl around his index finger, begging him to stay.

Shaking his head, Percy gently extracted himself from the hold and stood up. Then, he went about his business.

A solid twenty minutes later, and he stopped by the lake, sweaty from the hard run he'd just finished. Clearing his throat, he spat out the mucus-filled saliva, bringing his breathing back to normal. His heart pounded in his chest, the noise and sensation running through his ears too. He didn't know how many miles he'd finished, but considering his best cross country race time in October had been just above sixteen minutes, he'd peg himself hitting sub-six minute mile times still.

Once his heartbeat slowed and his lungs stopped their ache, he set about stretching. Static stretches were better performed after hard cardio exercise, rather than prior. Or so his coaches would preach. Before workouts and races, the team was made to do a very short plyometric circuit to warm up.

He smiled at the memories as he started his reps for push-ups. Once finished, he went on to complete his exercise with crunches, planks, scissor kicks, and bicycle kicks.

"Are you some kind of masochist?"

Percy lifted his head off the ground. "Thalia? What's up?"

Thalia crossed her arms, a baggy sweatshirt covering her upper body. She looked fresh off the bed and out of her dreams, the wavering eyelids and lazy head sway showing as much. Covering a yawn with the back of her hand, she shook her head lightly.

"I meant to talk to you yesterday… but you disappeared after lunch," she said with a small sniff.

"After lunch? I was at the rock wall with the satyrs, then I had Greek with Annabeth, and then gardening with Miranda."

Thalia raised a groggy eyebrow. "Who's schedule are you on? That's not the Hermes one."

Percy nodded. "Chiron decided to put me on Demeter cabin's schedule for my own protection. He doesn't think the Rich One would try to kill me again so soon, but lumped me in with cabin four to reduce the chances further. Chiron thinks the Rich One would avoid collateral damage when it came to his sister's kids since he'd never hear the end of it."

"Oh… that actually makes a lot of sense," Thalia muttered. She looked pensive.

"It would make more sense if there weren't only two other kids on that schedule. And if I slept in their cabin. But I still have to deal with the Stolls every night."

"Well, it's winter. Not many campers around these times. Last I counted there were... maybe twenty-five?"

Sitting up, Percy wiped some dirt off his arms. "So what're you doing out this early?"

"I'd ask you the same, but I watched you do ab training like your life depended on it. I just wanted to talk. To say sorry, actually."

"Sorry about what?" he asked. Crossing his legs, he gestured with his hand to the spot across from him.

Thalia sat down. "About how we've been treating you. Not cool."

Percy picked at his thumbnail. Since his claiming and the subsequent attempt on his life Hades had made, people kept their distance. He wouldn't begrudge them that, of course. The sting had been substantially lessened by knowing his mother had some of her attention on him.

"Don't worry about it." He gave her a small smile. It really didn't bother him.

Her electric eyes drifted to the side. The lines of her face went from creased to soft, then back to pronounced. "It's not fair to be treated differently over something you can't control."

"Probably, but seriously, I'm good. You shouldn't be sorry. I'm glad you came to talk to me, at least."

"I should've been the first person to talk to you after that happened," she muttered. Following her gaze, Percy saw she was staring in the direction of the massive pine tree on the camp's boundary. "I'm sorry that I didn't. You aren't the only one..."

He looked back at her. "For what?"

Thalia's shoulders heaved when she sighed. "Six years back—maybe seven, now—I was on my way here with three people. Two demigods and a satyr. Somehow, Hades found out I was Zeus' kid."

Percy glanced around, feeling the air chill and charge at the same time. The way she used names so liberally was both inspirational and a bit disconcerting. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

She blinked. "Ah, right, you don't know. Well, after World War II my dad and his two brothers made a pact. No more mortal kids. We were just too powerful, too influential, too much for the mortal world to handle. We typically caused the most damage. Earthquakes, storms, tsunamis."

"Wars?"

"That too. World War II was basically the Hades faction versus the Zeus and Poseidon faction. Bad times. Anyway, they swore not to sire anymore half-bloods."

"And Zeus..."

Thalia's face grew complicated. Her jaw was tight, but her lips were quirked. Her eyes were downcast, but they weren't narrowed or framed by sorrow. "Yeah. When I was born, the pact was practically broken. They swore on the River Styx, making it one of the most powerful oaths. But they're immortal, gods, the Big Three, so of course broken oaths don't mean much to them."

"It wasn't your fault though," Percy leaned forward.

"I know." She frowned. This time, there wasn't anything else but contempt. "But Hades didn't care. He sent monsters… a lot of monsters. They chased us. Hades didn't care if the other two half-bloods were killed, or the satyr. He just wanted me dead."

Percy thought Thalia might need a hug. Her voice had been carried off, and it was clear her mind was somewhere else. The hem of her sweatshirt had balled up in her fists.

Thinking fast, he tried to cheer her up. "Well, it's not like he succeeded."

Thalia snorted, and the face she made gave Percy the impression he'd failed in brightening the mood. "No, he killed me alright. That pine with the Golden Fleece? My dad turned me into a tree as I died; used my spirit to keep the camp protected from monsters."

Although Percy wanted to keep his mouth shut now, he couldn't help but ask, "What about the group you were with? Did the Rich One..."

She shook her head. "I fought to buy them time. All of them made it to camp, and the monsters didn't pursue. Annabeth, Grover… and Luke." The last name came out little more than a hoarse whisper.

"I've heard that name around," Percy said, knowing he was steering the conversation in a morbid direction. "I didn't realize you were friends."

"Nobody told you?" she asked.

"No. I don't know much about the guy."

"All you _need_ to know is that he's a traitor. He turned his back on camp, on Annabeth… on… everybody who cared for him. He tried to poison my tree, but this girl, Clarisse, brought the Golden Fleece back with Beckendorf's help. Healed the tree, healed me, and here I am. Hip-hip-hooray."

The way she said it was so flat that Percy chuckled despite himself. Thalia went ahead and changed the subject. "So, what's up with that… Ranavalona thing?"

Percy reared his head back. "That's my _daughter_ you're talking about. Do you mind not calling her a thing?"

Thalia looked horrified to have offended him. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry! I-I-I didn't mean it like—holy shit, please don't hate me!"

Her reaction, something Percy wished he could have immortalized, made him laugh. He shook his head and slapped his knee, calming himself after several seconds. "Just kidding. She's pretty terrifying, I know."

Flustered, she crossed her arms and tried to glare. "How in the world did you make it?"

" _She_ took a lot of… of… personal investment." Percy glanced at the sky, then at the trees, and finally at the ground. "Anyway! I'm gonna go take a shower if you don't mind. I accept your apology, and you should know I don't hold it against you, or anyone else." He'd raised his head to smile at Thalia.

There was some hesitation on Thalia's part. She seemed to have more on her mind, but something kept her from asking. Eventually, she nodded. "Thanks. We cool?"

"Arctic." He held his fist out.

She looked at the offer, grinned, then touched his knuckles with her own. "Sweet bean."

 **«White Cut»**

When Percy next saw Thalia, she was with Annabeth and Chiron. It was just before breakfast, and Percy just happened to be hanging out with the strawberries when they passed by him.

"And what did he say?" Chiron asked.

Annabeth was biting her lip. "He just said he needed help, and fast."

"It's gotta be important if he sent the message so early," Thalia said. "We have to help him."

"The best reason I'm thinking of is he found one and doesn't feel capable enough to get them out safely," Annabeth rubbed her chin. "Which means Grover might be in danger."

"Maine is quite some distance away, though," Chiron said. He stroked his beard. "Perhaps we should wait for more information."

"We can't risk Grover like that!"

"I wasn't suggesting such. We might be able to reach him again via Iris-message. An explanation would be beneficial in these times."

"We tried that," Thalia sounded frustrated. "But we couldn't get through. Something's wrong, I just know it."

Percy walked through the fields, careful not to trample any berries as he went. He'd been keeping his distance while they talked, but got closer so he could speak with them.

They must have heard him coming because all three turned when he was ten feet away. Chiron addressed him first. "Out for a morning stroll, Percy? I'd pegged you as the type to enjoy that sort of thing."

"More like an early morning triathlon," Thalia muttered.

"I don't know that I've trained enough for something like that," Percy said. "I'm good at running distance, but I've never swum or biked for very long. Thanks for the vote of confidence, though."

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

Thalia crossed her arms. "He's a robot. I saw him doing, like, a million crunches an hour ago. Apparently, that was the _end_ of his 'normal morning routine'. He's more machine than man at this point."

"The sun was just coming up."

"I know. That's the point."

Percy felt like shrinking under their intense inspection. "Sue me for trying to stay in shape why don't you," he mumbled.

Chiron smiled warmly. "A demigod who dedicates himself to working hard is one to be feared. I'm glad to hear you're already taking steps to improve."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Percy returned the smile awkwardly. "I always try to stay on top of it."

"Say," Annabeth's steely eyes were intimidating when they landed on him. "Ranavalona. That was the name of your… daughter, right?"

"Yeah."

"Why'd you name her that?"

"Well, er, it sounded cool. Plus, it kinda sounds like Ravana, who I also think is cool."

"You do realize Ranavalona was a tyrant of Madagascar, right? Her people died in droves under her rule."

Spine growing rigid, Percy nodded curtly. "The Mad Queen of Madagascar. The Female Caligula. Ranavalona I. Yeah, I know. My daughter's name practically chose itself as soon as she was born. We got off to a bad start."

"And Ravana?" Annabeth asked.

"The Demon Tyrant of Lanka, with ten heads and twenty arms, slain by Rama in Hindu mythology. A devoted worshiper of Shiva after he'd been defeated, sacrificing a head to his god-ruler each year, granted immortality because of Brahma. I think it's fitting." Percy shivered, the muscles in his back slackening. He relaxed his posture.

Annabeth crossed her arms. "I'm sensing a theme."

"Tyrants," Chiron's tail flicked, "come in many shapes, sizes, and from all sorts of stories. You said those two names fit your daughter best, however, may I ask what your daughter is?"

"Just a little pet project from a few years back," Percy waved the question off with a fond chuckle. "More importantly, I heard Grover might be in trouble?"

Annabeth and Thalia almost jumped at that, turning to face Chiron simultaneously. The fire in their eyes directed at the centaur, Percy let out a long, low breath. They were pretty scary when riled. He would rather stay clear of their war-path should they choose to take one.

"Chiron," Thalia stepped up. "We have to go."

"It's dangerous," Chiron argued. "Especially for you."

"I've been in the city with no problems."

"The Rich One may still be discontent."

"He hasn't tried anything since… that time." Thalia wrung her hands. "Annabeth will be with me. She'll use that big brain of hers to get us out of trouble if something happens."

Chiron glanced at the sky, shaking his head helplessly. "I can't, in good conscience, let you two go alone."

"We're meeting Grover," Annabeth reminded him.

"Yes, but Mr. Underwood isn't exactly the most…" his beard twitched as he trailed off, "combat-oriented individual."

Thalia huffed. "But he can do good enough."

"Well enough," Chiron corrected.

Percy's mouth quirked at the level of protectiveness he was seeing. It was endearing, watching Chiron argue for their sake, even though they fought back for the sake of their friend. All three were good people, he decided, if they cared for others so much.

Annabeth's voice broke him from his tender musings. "Then we'll bring Percy along!"

Thalia's eyes went wide, then she put a hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "Yeah! That's a great idea. His daughter straight up caught a fire-spear thrown from the bowels of the hellscape. No way we'll be in danger with her around."

Percy gaped at them. "Wait a sec—"

Chiron cut him off firmly. "That's a terrible idea."

Now, Percy felt offended. "Okay, _rude,_ but can we—"

Annabeth interrupted, saying, "Ranavalona was able to save him from Hades."

The air grew cold again, frost spreading over the strawberries, turning them from candy-red to a muddy brown color, rotting them where they rested.

"Once, and shortly after that she burst into flames."

"But she can reform, remember. Percy said so himself."

"And we don't know how long that takes."

Percy coughed and said, "Just a few minutes." Nobody heard him.

"She is only one. The Rich One can send hundreds of monsters."

"Let him try." Thalia's fists were clenched. "I'm ready this time with some training under my belt."

Annabeth's face had set. "And I can fight too, now."

"The Kindly Ones alone would make for fearsome opponents, even with both of you having experience. I implore you to reconsider."

"We need new campers," Annabeth said.

"But we can't risk older ones for recruits," Chiron rebutted.

"Grover wouldn't have sounded so desperate if he didn't think this demigod was something special."

Chiron's expression shifted into one of hard contemplation. Percy had seen the look plenty on the faces of his caretakers. Usually, it meant they were only a single push away from giving up on the argument altogether.

"It couldn't possibly be..."

Annabeth gave him a grave frown. "That's what I'm thinking. Grover's never sounded this frantic."

From where she was, Thalia glanced between them both, as if she were watching a tennis match. "What are you guys… oh… oh, gods… not another one."

And with that, Percy was the only one in the group who was lost. Since he stood a bit further away, he was able to keep himself stationary during the conversation. He could make out their bleak profiles well enough. It told him they'd come to an unpleasant conclusion.

"Percy. We could use your help. Ranavalona's, too." Annabeth was hitting him with a fierce scowl.

Before he could even open his mouth, somebody spoke for him, her lilt like a fresh wave of jasmine wafting amidst a summer zephyr. "Of course he'll join you. This is the perfect opportunity for him to show you what he's _really_ made of."

Turning, Percy found a woman with long black hair and faded multicolored eyes looking at him and him alone, as if he were the only other thing around. Her pale skin was matched by a nearly white dress, which he could barely see as having several different shifting colors.

"I don't have much time in this realm, my son. But you going on this journey is necessary." She smiled affectionately, or at least she tried to, her pallid complexion unwavering in casting its ghoulish shade.

Percy felt his heart thrum against his ribs. It was like the wind had been sucked right out of his lungs. Heat under his arms and across his neck made him shuffle in place. "Mom?"

At this, a bit of the color came back to her person. Pink touched her skin, the light in her eyes brightened, and her dress came alive with vibrant neon glows. With some life back in her, the smile had grown warm. "We'll speak again, in greater depth, soon. I promise."

"Wait!" He reached out, but she was already sinking back into the earth. Her smile grew sad when she saw him move toward her.

"Soon," she whispered. "I love you."

Percy stopped dead. He stared at where she'd been standing, once tangible and real, and found nothing to signify she'd been there.

It was too much. The growing ache in his throat made it hard to swallow. His knees felt like they would give under his weight. Those last words replayed in his head.

"So that's what it feels like," he whispered and looked at the strawberry bushes, which trembled turbulently. "I love you too, mom."

Head still spinning, Percy stood up, wobbling a bit. The world seemed tilted but righted itself with time. With something constricting his spine, he had no choice but to keep his posture from wilting.

Percy looked down his nose at Chiron, who hadn't yet risen from the bow he'd been giving the goddess. "Looks like... that settles it. I'll make sure nothing happens to them. I can guarantee that."

 **«Black Cut»**

Day had turned to night sometime during their nine-hour trip up to Bar Harbor, Maine. During that time, Percy had been given a lot of time to think about seeing his mother for the first time. A whirlwind of emotion had overwhelmed him, though, so he tried to push it aside until they next met.

Percy had paid for the bus tickets to Maine, putting a pretty decent dent in his wallet, which did take his mind off things a bit. Still, they would have money left over for the return trip, and even for a hotel if that's what it came down to, if only for a few nights.

And of course, he'd brought enough for several meals. Maine was famous for lobster, after all, though he questioned whether the restaurants in Bar Harbor could compete with those in Manhattan. Still, the prospect of having fresh claw meat was too tempting. Lobster season was almost over, and he'd be damned if he didn't give it one last "Huzzah!" in his stomach before the time passed.

Looking out the windshield, he could barely see fifty feet in front of them. They'd gotten off the bus in the town, and had taken a taxi to the military academy Grover sent his message from. Their driver was kind enough and kept the mood light even though the car slid at the slightest gust of wind on the icy road.

"Here we are," their cabbie spoke, releasing the death-grip he had on the steering wheel. "Westover Hall. Always thought this place was too creepy for a school."

Annabeth and Thalia thanked the man and got out from one side. Percy leaned forward and asked, "Between you and me, what's the best shack around here for seafood?"

"Got a hankering for lobster, eh? Try Gretta Nirvana or B-Side Grille. You'll find them back in town. Best tails and claws I've ever had. They're a bit spendy, though."

Percy smiled and gave the driver his fare, plus a little extra for his cool attitude. "Thanks for the lift."

"Wa-wait! You gave me—"

"Keep the change. Buy your daughter something nice for Christmas." Percy waved the man's protests off and caught up with Annabeth, who'd stayed back to wait for him, even though a flurry of snow whipped at her face.

She eyed him up and down. "That was generous."

Percy shrugged, looking at the massive structure that was Westover Hall. It was made of black stone, with two prominent towers at the front, one on either side of the oversized double doors. The academy's turrets were covered in thick sheets of snow. It felt precarious on its perch, where it rested on a cliff with its back to the roiling ocean. At its fore was a coniferous forest, the evergreens having been blanketed by frost. A deserted road led through the trees, snaking back to where they'd turned off the highway, the dark asphalt slicked by sleet.

A howling wind ripped from the ocean's berth, ominous as it rolled around Percy and the two by his side. The doors looked too heavy for regular people to push open, and he wondered how they were supposed to enter.

"So do we just knock or what?" He wasn't sure whether they could even hear him over the sounds of wind and through his arm, which he used to shield his everything below his eyes.

Annabeth motioned for him and Thalia to move closer, and when they did, the doors groaned open. They hurried inside. After a few feet, the oak monstrosities noiselessly slid shut until the final damning thud.

Percy's eyebrows shot up. "Alright, I'll say it: that was super creepy."

Shaking the snow from his clothes, Percy looked around, craning his neck to see everything the grand hall they were in had to offer. The ceiling must have been fifty feet above them, tall pillars rising to meet it. There were flags of all sorts, from a smorgasbord of countries that he couldn't recognize. Weapons were on display too. Pollaxes, spears, maces, swords, old pistols, and rifles; there was a museum's worth of stuff on the walls.

While it was a treat to stare at, his muscles twitched under his skin. His spine tingled as something slithered between his vertebrae. He forced himself to relax but knew the signs of warning. An unmistakable creep of danger lingered in the air. It soaked into the walls and permeated the carpet beneath their feet.

Thalia fiddled with her can of pepper spray. Annabeth hadn't stopped sniping her gaze from corner to corner since they entered. Both were about as tense as Percy, which reassured him that he wasn't overly paranoid and jumping at shadows.

"Yeah, pretty creepy," Thalia admitted. She'd already gotten most of the powder from out of her hair. Unlike Annabeth, she wasn't wearing a hat. Her ears were red, and there was a bit of watery dribble coming from her nose.

The girls tucked their overnight bags by the doors and a nearby suit of plate armor. Percy hadn't brought anything with him except his wallet and winning personality, so he waited and kept watch. The hall formed a "T" shape, with both fins at the far end.

Before he could look around more, a door labeled ADMINISTRATION opened just off to their left. A man strode out, hands folded behind him, his back painfully straight. Following him, a woman marched through the door and closed it. They both shared the same mix of gray and black hair, and wore similar military officer uniforms, complete with tunics, belts, boots, and those fun tassels that went on the shoulders.

"And what," the woman's tone was clipped and tired, sounding as if she was trying her best to sound authoritative with only two hours of sleep, "are you three doing at Westover Academy?"

Percy blinked. "Well, the doors just kinda"—he swung his arms out to either side—" _wooshed_ open. I take it Halloween is this school's favorite holiday?"

"These are not visiting hours!" the man snapped. He looked at Thalia and Annabeth through narrowed, heterochromatic eyes before settling his glare on Percy. His hawkish face twisted with confusion, then went back to a frown. "Leave the premises or we will call the authorities."

"You'd throw out a bunch of kids into that weather?" Percy pointed at the doors. "It's, like, snowmaggedon out there."

The man's nostrils flared. "And the police cars will be warm enough to guide you back to town. Westover Hall does _not_ accept random _jackals_ from the street." His French accent was more pronounced when riled.

Thalia sighed and held up her hand. She snapped her fingers. The noise was loud and crisp, more than it had any right being, even in a large stone hall. A cold breeze whipped through the building.

"Don't you remember us, sir? We're students here. I'm Thalia, then there's Annabeth and Percy." She pointed at each of them deliberately.

The man didn't look like he was going to buy it. His eyes narrowed even further, but each time they landed on Percy, the confusion came back to his face. Humming, he turned to his colleague. "Ms. Gottschalk, are these students any of yours? The… _boy_ … seems a bit old for your class."

Percy didn't have a weapon like Thalia's collapsible spear or the dagger Annabeth kept strapped to her waist. But if he got into a tight situation like with Hades and the spear of doom, Ranavalona would be by his side in a heartbeat.

"Yes, Thalia and Annabeth," the woman nodded dazedly. "I recognize them from an eighth-grade class. The boy, though, I'm unsure of."

"Ms. Gottschalk! How'd you forget me? I'm… in the choir!" Percy regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He'd never been in any musical program.

Nobody looked convinced. It was then that Grover appeared, running down the hall awkwardly, saving Percy from having to prove anything.

"Underwood! What are you doing out of the gymnasium? Students are not to roam," the man barked. His voice held thinly veiled distaste.

"Oh, Dr. Thorn, Ms. Gottschalk! I was just looking for these three, is all. You know how they are. Terrible with directions," Grover chuckled nervously. He was tense. "I figured they'd get lost so—"

"Enough," Dr. Thorn scowled. "Get back to the dance, the four of you, and don't let me catch you out again. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Annabeth, Grover, and Percy said in unison.

 **«Black Cut»**

Grover didn't stop ushering them forward until they stood in front of the gym. There was the muffled cadence of music coming from behind the glass door. Thalia and Annabeth gave Grover hugs. Percy opted for a handshake, which felt strange since neither of them was over fifty and they hadn't just finished a business deal.

"I'm so glad you guys came," Grover said. "What're you doing here, Percy?"

"My mom told me to come along."

Grover took a second to think. "So it _was_ Demeter!"

Percy wiggled his hand. "Close. Persephone. Demeter is my grandma. And I guess Zeus is my grandpa. Which means Thalia is my… aunt?"

Thalia wrinkled her nose. "That's really weird when you say it aloud."

"But _aunty_ ," Percy pouted. "I just want to show you how much I care!"

"You stop that."

"Wow!" Grover looked at Percy with awe. "Persephone. Goddess of springtime, flowers, and vegetation. So cool."

"Don't forget she has a husband. He tried to kill me when I got claimed."

Paling, Grover shuddered. "Oh. Right. The Rich One. That's… bad?"

"Yeah, I'd think so."

"Let's get back to the problem at hand," Annabeth said, looking through the glass into the gym. "What's the deal?"

Grover bit his lip. "Two. There are two strong ones here. A brother and a sister, twelve and fourteen."

Thalia whistled. "Di immortales. Two? Where are they? Any monsters we need to watch for?"

"They're inside. As for monsters..." Grover gave Thalia a pleading look. "There's one. He won't let me get close. I think he suspects the kids and me, so he tries to keep me away from them. So far he hasn't really approached them, but since it's the last day before winter break, today he has to make his move. Tonight, actually. You made it just in time."

Percy curled his fingers. His daughter, responsive to his distress, asked if he needed her. Though appreciative, he denied because there was no reason for her to manifest. He really tried not to depend on her to fight his battles.

"And the monster?" Annabeth asked. Her hand rested on the dagger.

"Dr. Thorn, the vice principal and resident psychologist."

"Wish every school had a psychologist," Percy muttered. "How'd you know we were here?"

Grover smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Not everybody smells like tuberose, my dude. Or should I call you Musk Man?"

That made Percy chuckle. "I thought we agreed it was Deep Base Note?"

" _Polianthes Tuberosa_?"

"Eh, let's leave it at Percy."

Annabeth and Thalia shrugged at each other, the byplay lost on them. "How do we deal with Thorn? What kind of monster is he?"

Grover's face lost its levity and reverted to anxious. "I don't know. He's scary, though. What should we do?" He went back to addressing Thalia.

She pulled the gym door open, gesturing them to enter with her. Inside was a whole new world compared to the no-nonsense vibe the rest of the school gave off. Balloons touched the ceiling and rested on the ground. Paper streamers were taped to the walls. The bright, industrial strength lights were white enough to illuminate every inch of the reasonably spacious room. A rise of bleachers on both the left and right gave a place for people to sit and talk. Near the emergency exits to the back, several long tables were set with festive runners and plenty of snacks.

"There," Grover pointed to the right. On the lowest row of the bleachers, two kids, a girl and a boy, sat close to one another. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo."

Percy wasn't sure why, but looking at them made his veins knot. He fought the odd reaction. Just behind them, a door opened, and Thorn stepped into the gym.

"Don't stare," Thalia hissed. "Looks like we're just gonna have to mingle for now. Act natural. With any luck, our scents will throw him off. A satyr and three half-bloods might confuse him."

"Are you telling us to dance?" Annabeth asked.

"I can't dance!" Grover protested.

"Yeah? And I'd rather be listening to Green Day," Thalia said. She grabbed him by the wrist and led him away. "But we're both gonna have to make some sacrifices here."

Percy watched them go. When Annabeth nudged him, he shrugged. "I can't dance either."

"They don't have these events at your school?"

"Well, yeah, they do." Percy tried to split his attention between her and the di Angelo siblings. Thorn was mainly watching Thalia and Grover, pretending to be overseeing the event. "I just don't go to them. And if I do, it's for the punch. I've become a connoisseur, you could say, of the highest fruit punch products around the nation."

"Let's just pretend you _can_ dance for a bit," Annabeth said. "It's a slower song, so we don't have to move very much."

Percy listened to the music. "Is this… Dido?! Damn, this is a hot throwback!"

Annabeth cracked a smirk. "Really?"

"There will be no white flag above my door," Percy sang to himself, swaying along with the music. He clapped his hands rhythmically. "I'm in love, and always will be."

"You've got a few moves," Annabeth laughed. "And you say you don't like dances?"

"I guess it all depends on the song selection. And the company," he smiled. His lip quirked down when he met Bianca di Angelo's eye for a moment.

Annabeth cleared her throat and nodded. "Right, right. Anyway, let's blend in. Take my hand and put your other on my side. Yeah, like that. Alright, now we just have to move a bit, and voila, we're incognito."

"Great." Percy did his best to avoid kicking or otherwise stepping on her. "I can't believe Thalia would rather listen to Green Day. I mean… Dido! So good. Oh! You know what song would be great right now? _Toxic_. Man, it's been so long since I heard it."

"Yeah. Are you okay?" She looked at him with some concern.

Percy's cheek twitched. "Feeling a bit off. I'm not sure why, but when I look at those siblings…"

She hummed in thought. "The datura? I saw you take it on the bus. Maybe the poison is getting to you?"

"I've only ever reacted poorly to it once, and that was a long, _long_ time ago. Portion size matters. I don't go over."

"I still have some questions about that," she said.

"I bet."

"And your daughter."

Percy looked at her warily. "That's all a bit personal."

They danced in awkward silence until the song ended. Annabeth let her hands linger on his body for a few seconds, but let go when Percy excused himself. He moved through the crowd to the bowl of punch. Taking a cupful, he chugged, refilled, and chugged again. The other kids dancing were gathered close to the middle of the gym. Their stiff movements made him feel better about his own attempts. Some students didn't even bother trying, and just mingled with their friends, talking over the music and other groups.

When he looked back to the siblings, his stomach dropped. Thorn was leading them out of the gym with a hand on each of their shoulders. Percy met Bianca di Angelo's eye and saw fear.

"Oh fuck." Scouring the room, Percy didn't see Annabeth or Thalia. He thought about finding them until the door closed behind Thorn and the kids. Cursing again, he gave chase, hoping that whatever monster the vice principal was, it couldn't breathe fire.

* * *

 **A/N: If I missed reviews or PM's, I apologize, but things have been busy with finals and work. Credit to Dido for the song White Flag. I upped the number of campers from about a dozen to about twenty-five. With at least a couple in each cabin except Hera, Artemis, Zeus, or Poseidon for obvious reasons.**

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 _ **This next part is unessential, so you can skip it if you aren't interested in hearing a bit of my personal take on my stories.**_

* * *

 **Not long ago I received two messages from two people who thought they were entitled to a new chapter for my other story, Mortal Truth, because they'd been waiting for a month. I was, admittedly, a tad shocked at hearing this. I understand readers for that story want updates. It's cool people like the story that much.**

 **That said, I don't provide a service. I don't ask for money in exchange for what I write. Please understand that I do this for fun and as a hobby, and would rather not frustrate myself unnecessarily. I'm continuing to work on chapter 23 for AaMT, and those two messages only made me scrap about three-thousand words after I wrote down nothing particularly good. Now that my final projects and exams are done, I might be able to get things out faster, but that isn't a promise, only a tentative suggestion. I do still have a part-time job, and might even get more hours during the summer, so like I said, I can't promise anything.**

 **Recently, I've been jiving with this story more, and I've been writing it to let off some stress from school.** **Thank you to all those who are patiently waiting for the next chapter of that to come out.**


	4. Give It Up To Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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4\. Give It Up To Me

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The hallway which Thorn had taken was poorly lit, with a solitary exit sign at the far end illuminating the next set of doors, its eerie red light casting soft shadows of the two rows of lockers lining the corridor. Percy swallowed his nerves when they crept up on him. He felt hypersensitive. His clothes were tight and itchy, the saliva in his mouth sweet from the punch, the air too cold for his lungs; he could feel the danger. It was just as tangible as he was, so thick and cloying that it even drew a reaction from his daughter.

In the face of fear, he did his best to break the hold it had on him in the way he'd been doing for years.

"Olly, olly, oxen-free!"

He received the silence he'd expected, though the phrase still had a decent thrum to it in the empty hallway. The floor was ceramic, and each of his steps clicked on its scuffed surface. Classroom doors were interspaced every fifteen feet, with small rectangular windows on them. As he passed each one, Percy tried to check inside but met with only pitch black. Pushing onward, he shivered at the thought of Thorn popping out from one of the rooms and surprising him. His hand flexed involuntarily.

"Marco!"

Again, he didn't get a response. Without a weapon, he felt oddly vulnerable. In movies and books and the like, the good guy typically carried something with him for defense. It made them look all the more badass when a fight scene happened since it would then seem like the hero was prepared all along.

Percy licked his lips. He knew Ranavalona was just a call away. If he were in grave danger, he wouldn't even have to lift a finger. But, if she were destroyed in his defense, it would be some time before she could regrow. Her germination would begin almost immediately, true, but she needed a few minutes before her form and spirit matured.

Hades had reduced his daughter to ash with one spear. Percy was lucky, then, that he hadn't been attacked again in quick succession.

A noise from behind made him spin. One of the doors opened slowly. Percy tensed and waited to see what would happen. He sighed when Bianca and Nico di Angelo stepped out of the classroom closest to him. They both looked scared—terrified, even—and trembled as they clung to one another. Only because of the red light, which Percy stood under, was he able to see them shake. He also caught Bianca's eyes shift to the spot behind him.

With no time to spare, Percy threw himself onto the kids, bowling them over with his weight. They all fell to the ground just as something whistled above their heads, crashing into one of the lockers. The noise was loud and tinny, reverberating in the corridor like a high-pitched gong.

"Inexperienced in the art of subterfuge?"

Thorn's noticeable French accent had hints of sarcasm and a sneer. Percy rolled over and got to his feet, standing defensively in front of the siblings, who tried to back away to the closest wall.

"Always check your surroundings, _boy_ ," the man taunted. "If you were a trained demigod you'd know such. So that begs the question of what a person like you is doing here. Certainly, you react like a half-blood, but you don't smell like one. My mouth doesn't water at the prospect of chewing the gristle from your bones. In fact, I'm repulsed by the odor you exude. It's abhorrent."

Percy wrinkled his nose. "Didn't your mom ever tell you not to be a picky eater?"

"So you would have me devour you? All well and good," Thorn breathed a laugh. "I don't need you. Those other half-bloods you came with, however, are high-priority. Thalia Grace and Annabeth Chase. Plus the sniveling children behind you."

"Sorry," Percy raised his fists. He willed them to stop rattling. Even his voice sounded weak. "If that's your plan, we're gonna have problems."

Thorn scoffed. "Oh, yes, I'm absolutely horrified. A pair of demigods who don't know of our world and a child so green he could pass for a McDonald's Shamrock Shake. How the United States became the heart of western civilization, I'll never know. You'll all eat yourselves to death by the turn of next century. What you pass for food? Bah. _Dégueulasse_."

" _Dio santo_." Bianca staggered back, looking even more perturbed than before. "He… he's… he's French!"

"Didn't the accent give it away?" Percy asked without turning his head.

"I thought it was fake," she whispered, horror in her voice. " _Che palle_! This is bad."

The sneer Thorn sent her way could have melted steel beams. " _Italiens_. Done kowtowing to the sovereign with the biggest stick? Nobody has taken your people seriously since Rome, girl."

Percy had never heard a person shift from terror to rage in less time than Bianca did right then and there. She snarled at Thorn, still holding Nico protectively, though her hands moved to cover his ears.

" _Vaffanculo_! You stuck up son of a French whore!" She actually spat at him, right over Percy's shoulder, grazing him with some of her saliva. "Ever hear of the Renaissance? Your backward country would've been lost without it, Baguette Boy!"

"How childish," Thorn examined his nails. "Name calling? Really? I expected nothing less from you. Recall, girl, that renaissance is a French word. Now let's put cultural and historical differences aside. After all, I'm more Greek than anything else. Just like you and your brother. And just like this… _boy_."

Percy chewed his lip. Thorn's blue eye practically shone in the darkened hallway, contrasting with the red exit sign.

"There is no escape," Thorn said. "Come with me, and I promise no more pain than strictly necessary."

"Sorry pal," Percy shuffled in place. "You aren't getting to them. And I hate to break it to you, but your tough-guy act isn't gonna scare me."

"I could say the same for you. The shaking in your hands leads me to believe some kind of neurological disorder, or simply that you're frightened. Both are equally pathetic. Alas, I won't kill you immediately. Maybe the General will find some use for you. Or perhaps not. We'll wait and see."

Before Percy could find a good comeback, he heard the whistling noise again. This time, he didn't react fast enough and was yanked against the wall by a passing projectile. Glancing at his shoulder, he saw a dark spine pierced through his loose jacket, pinning him in place. There was some light stinging, which told him he'd been grazed.

Just as he went to tear the object out of his clothing and attack, two more embedded themselves in the floor, too close to the di Angelo kids. Percy cursed at the speed of the spines. He wasn't sure how Thorn was launching them.

"Now do try to stay conscious," Thorn said. "My poison causes pain, it isn't intended to kill. You'll be able to use your legs if you've the fortitude. And one wrong move, _boy_ , will spell the end for you and for one of these brats."

 **«Black Cut»**

Thorn led them outside, and Percy couldn't help but chuckle at how such an innocent mistake turned the tides in his favor. Still, he had to play it safe; otherwise, the siblings might get caught in the struggle. He had no intention of letting them die because of him.

"And what's so funny?" Thorn asked, pushing Percy forward. The path they walked was covered in snow, cutting through the woods, and could only be seen because of the lamplights brightening the white powder. The trees towered over them, shuddering with each gust of wind.

Percy bit his tongue. He didn't want to say anything to give Thorn an advantage. He hadn't noticed it in the hall, but with him so close to Nico and Bianca, his blood once more felt like it was straining to burst out of his veins. His spine was being constricted. He wanted to strip out of his own skin, like tearing hunks of bark from a tree's pith.

Beneath him, he felt nature connect to his person. The grass which lay under the sleet became his. The trees that swayed were uninhabited by spirits, and therefore, also his. The shrubs easily bent to him when he passed. He breathed through the forest, which stretched on for about a mile to the south, east, and west. Only the northern area—where Thorn was herding them—had no foliage. It was just a cavernous empty pit in Percy's extended senses.

"Where are you taking us?" Bianca demanded. Though she still sounded angry, her face had lost much of its vitriol, leaving uncertainty and apprehension. "Why are you doing this?"

When she didn't get a response, her voice became incensed. "What are you anyway? I always knew there was something wrong with you. I shouldn't be surprised that you're French."

Percy, who'd been forced to stay at the front of the pack, turned around when he heard a sharp clapping and a grunt of pain. Thorn loomed over Bianca, who was holding her mouth with one hand.

"You will stay silent for the remainder of this trip, Bianca di Angelo," Thorn growled. "If not, I can show you first hand what that _boy_ is feeling right now."

Nico tried to shove Thorn, but was only able to shift the larger man by a few inches. "Don't hurt my sister!"

Thorn scowled and grabbed Nico by the hair, yanking it so their eyes met. "Do that again, and I'll take a few pounds of flesh from you. Unlike the _boy_ , you would make for a fine morsel. All of you, keep walking."

They followed the path for another few minutes until the forest ended. The clearing only ran for about thirty feet. Beyond that was just a big empty space. Percy thought he heard waves churning and crashing against rock somewhere far below. The cliff must have dropped over a hundred feet, and meeting the ocean would no doubt result in death.

Thorn threw them toward the edge one by one, his unexpected strength making Percy tumble through the snow. Whatever poison Thorn used wasn't very effective. Percy felt a very faint burning where the spine hit.

Bianca crouched and went to help him stand, but he stayed with his hands on the ground, buried in the freezing powder. He almost wanted to gloat now that Thorn had given him an excuse. It would be easier to commandeer the vegetation already around him instead of creating new life. And now he had a better connection to the grass and roots.

"Are you okay?" Bianca asked. She looked at his shoulder. "That doesn't look so good. And he said something about _poison_."

"I'm alright," Percy glanced at her. She was pretty, he noted, with her silky black hair and olive skin. When he caught her gaze, however, anger flashed through him. Being closer, he could see an odd duality in her dark eyes. Whether it was genius or madness he saw lurking, he couldn't say. It could have been both, honestly.

Bianca let out a shaky breath. "Any ideas for getting out of this?"

"Yeah. I just need a little bit of time. Maybe a minute. Maybe less."

Percy felt branches curl on his muscles, wriggling just beneath his skin. "What's this all about, Thorn? I thought monsters eat demigods, not take them prisoner." Still wary of the speed at which the good doctor could launch those missiles, Percy hoped a more understated plan would work.

"You have no idea what's happening, do you, child?" Thorn laughed. He unclipped a radio from his belt and spoke into it. There was a sentence worth of garbled response, then the line cut and Thorn put the device back. "Soon, you'll understand. The General will enlighten you."

The snow had stopped coming down in sheets, and instead gently floated to the ground. With the wind now calm too, Percy heard helicopter blades whirling in the distance. He checked out toward the sea. A spotlight glistened far off, a single beam of white cutting through the darkness.

"Seems like our transport is here," Thorn said. "And just on time too."

"Where are you taking us?" Nico stammered, gripping something in his fist.

"Why would I waste my breath telling you when all will be revealed in such a short amount of time?" Thorn scratched his nose. "Though, I suppose there isn't harm in talking while we wait. Let's just say, Nico di Angelo, that you are about to be offered the opportunity of a lifetime. With the Great Stirring upon us, Olympus will fall, along with all those arrogant gods sitting on their gilded chairs. Soon, we shall control the monster with enough power to bring Olympus crumbling down."

Bianca leaned closer to Percy. "This guy is crazy."

As the last syllable left her mouth, something solid and invisible slammed into both of them, throwing them to the ground. Stunned for a moment, Percy's careful manipulations of the foliage around them halted. A few of Thorn's projectiles flew overhead. Thalia burst through the treeline with Grover, shield and spear raised as she charged headlong.

She closed the distance between herself and Thorn faster than Percy had ever seen her move. Her spear would have made short work of their mutual enemy if his hand hadn't transformed into a monstrous orange paw.

Thorn slapped her spear away and raked his finger-length claws down the front of Thalia's shield. They spun away from each other, and Thorn launched another salvo of spines from the tail he'd somehow grown—an ugly, leathery thing, shaped like a scorpion's, but with multiple spikes making up the tip.

Thalia dodged instead of blocking. The missiles barely missed her arms and flew into the forest. She tried to push forward again, but Thorn only had to fire a few more spines to stop her from progressing.

Grover, meanwhile, had taken to bringing a set of pipes out from beneath his shirt. He played a quick shanty, one fit for sailing the seven seas, and soon a collection of grass and daisies rose from the snow, crawling up Thorn's legs.

Internally, Percy scoffed at the sickly looking vegetation. Ranavalona seemed affronted for him, seeing someone else trespass against him and his domain. His daughter implored for him to act the way she wanted him to. Her suggestions sent ripples through the fluid in his spine, up into the ventricles of his brain.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. His daughter wasn't usually one to be so pushy. He wondered what it could mean for her to be goading a reaction from him.

A roar brought his attention back to Thorn, who transformed from man to beast. The body of a lion and the head of a human, still equipped with his dangerous tail, Thorn cut a legendary sight.

"Manticore!" Annabeth hissed. She must have been the one to knock them over, Percy figured, but he wasn't sure how she'd done so. At least he could see her now. "Oh, this is bad."

"No way!" Nico's eyes were wide. "The Manticore has three thousand AP and plus five to saving throws. He inflicts Toxic Damage and lowers the AP of afflicted targets by three hundred for their next turn."

Thorn roared again. "I should have known this would happen! Blasted demigods ruining everything! Luckily, I have reinforcements."

From behind, a piercing beam of light illuminated the cliff. A harsh gale picked up as the helicopter's rotor blades blasted wind and snow everywhere. It hovered back for a few seconds, then pitched forward a bit and came to a stop right over the clearing. The noise was deafening.

Before Percy had a chance to do anything, eight people dropped from the sides of the chopper, which must have been at least sixty feet in the air. Each figure landed in a crouch. It was then that Percy noticed none of them had any heads.

Instead, their eyes and mouths were planted firmly in their bare chests. There was nothing to be seen above their collarbones. They wore black cargo pants and combat boots as if such would make them seem normal in any way.

Annabeth cursed under her breath. "Akephaloi."

"Ake-who-what?" Bianca reared back, revolted at the things in front of her. "What is going on?!"

"Headless men. Stronger than any mortal. They have a taste for human flesh."

"Cool!" Nico didn't seem to care about their missing body parts or choice of food. "They aren't part of the set, but I bet they'd make good support cards!"

"Nico, shut up about that stupid Mythomagic!" Bianca sounded frustrated.

The situation had devolved further than Percy could have initially imagined. Without so much as a warning, the headless men split up and attacked. They were quick on their feet. Four made a dash to where Percy, Annabeth, and the di Angelo siblings were. The others sprinted toward Thalia and Grover.

Annabeth pulled Percy to his feet. "Shouldn't you be calling Ranavalona out right about now?"

Percy was about to retort, but the sound of a horn blowing stopped him dead. Or rather, the sudden intrusion of another claimant to his demesne made him pause. Unlike Grover's power, though, this person was unlike anything he'd felt before.

The trees shifted allegiance immediately to this new pretender. Then came the bushes. Only the grass sided with Percy. But even then, it was just barely him the grass chose. Grover's power was paltry compared to the new challenger.

Once again, his daughter entreated him to do something about it. She knew him well enough to know he'd be vexed.

A dozen arrows flew through the trees. Two of the headless men went down in the volley, turning to gold dust as their bodies crunched on the snow. The remaining monsters veered away. They took defensive positions in a semicircle formation, Thorn sitting behind them.

Percy knelt and pushed his finger past the snow. Once it touched the ground, he went to work repurposing his original project. Instead of growing vines which secreted heaps of mucilage, which he'd initially planned to subdue Thorn non-lethally with, he took the expansive network of tree roots and began to mold them. Thorn screamed and complained about something being unfair. It was a bit childish.

Percy had closed his eyes, and so couldn't see what Annabeth was talking about when she said, "The Hunters. Right on time."

"A beast most foul running amok in such a populated area must be put down. Permission to engage, my lady?" Whoever spoke wasn't recognizable to Percy. She had an odd accent, like she was trying to recite Shakespeare for a school play.

"Granted. Make sure to deal with the akephaloi too. We can't have them causing any more trouble." This girl's voice was all too serious, regardless of the situation. She sounded like the kind of person who wouldn't crack a smile even after watching a grizzly bear breakdance.

"Understood."

"No!" Thorn screamed. "This is against the rules! Direct interference!"

"Fire!" the Shakespeare-girl shouted.

Percy opened his eyes just in time to see the headless men go down protecting Thorn, who leaped at Thalia and Grover. Annabeth lunged and stabbed her dagger deep into Thorn's shoulder.

With most of the monsters gone and Annabeth too close for Percy to comfortably kill Thorn, only a single target remained. The helicopter had moved back toward the cliff, circling around so it could face them head-on. His plan changed once again, the roots coming together and melding beneath the ground.

It didn't take quite as long this time for his project to finish. Still crouched, he looked up, took aim, and sent his command to the massive vines hidden under the dirt.

Snow and earth and grass flew into the air as a gargantuan wood stake tore loose. His experience with Hades had given him the idea since nobody would expect it the first time around. He'd intended to use a similar version to deal with the headless men, but the Hunters had taken care of that already.

The construct was as long as a utility pole, with the diameter of a giant exercise ball and a sharpened tip for extra intimidation. Unfortunately, Percy had launched it far too fast for somebody to get a good look and be truly scared. Even he could barely see as it ripped through the air. The vines which had thrown it retreated back into the ground.

It reached the helicopter—which must have been over a hundred feet away—in less than a second. From above, the sound of sundering metal filled the world. A massive chunk of the helicopter's hull was sheared and sent scattering behind it. The hardened stake kept traveling out of sight, even when its target pitched and plummeted hundreds of feet below, little more than a hunk of twisted scrap.

"Annabeth!" The cry of despair from Thalia made Percy stand.

Thorn was jumping off the cliff with Annabeth, his teeth in her shirt, following the chopper's wreckage into the ocean depths. If they fell, there would be no coming back. Percy cursed and threw his hand out, quickly using some of the remaining vines. They reached for the falling monster and his hostage but failed to latch on.

"Shit." Percy ran over to the ledge and peered down. There was nothing to see but darkness. The ocean was so far below he could barely hear the waves. "God damn. I missed?"

His daughter chided him for hesitating to call on her. Percy ignored her for the most part, but hung his head at the thought of facing Chiron again, especially since he'd promised to bring both Thalia and Annabeth back safely. Now the best he could do was speak for how brave she had been if nothing else.

"Let go of me!"

Percy turned and saw a few girls holding Thalia down. The clearing had been filled by who he assumed were the Hunters. They all had the same parkas and jeans on, and each held a bow. Most looked some years younger than him, though it was hard to tell with a few. One, in particular, a tall girl with copper-colored skin and a silver circlet in her dark hair, seemed to be far older than he was, even if her face wasn't quite matured.

"Let me go!" Thalia struggled under their hold. "We have to get her!"

"You cannot help your friend right now."

Percy saw a younger girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, step forward and gesture for the Hunters to get off Thalia.

His lip quivered, wanting desperately to curl. The pretender had shown herself, and his daughter raged for her fealty or her life. Percy took a breath and calmed Ranavalona. He wasn't itching to fight as much as she was; especially after the stunt with his giant wood construct. All he wanted to do was stretch his strained body.

"And you," the pretender glanced at him with silver-yellow eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Percy Jackson, was it? You seem tense. Is there something you want to say?"

He nodded. "Who're you?"

"Oh? Is that it?" She raised a single eyebrow. "Interesting. Who do you think I am? Did you not feel our connection through this place. I certainly felt you. Here, on the edge of the sea and the wood, can you not see what looks you in the eye so plainly?"

Percy's lip twitched. "A goddess. No doubt. But I'm not… uh… very familiar with a lot of them. No offense."

"None taken if none was meant. I am Artemis." She stood straight as she announced herself.

"Oh… well met," Percy nodded, feeling stupid for acting overly cordial. He almost went to offer a handshake, but recalled the awkward experience with Grover and stopped himself. "I'm Percy Jackson. But you already knew that I guess."

She studied him carefully. "Yes. All of Olympus knows of you, son of Persephone, if only for the novelty of who your mother is. It would seem our simultaneous presences stir conflict in nature. We must be of different minds, then, for such a rupturing."

 **«Black Cut»**

Even though the immediate danger of Thorn had passed, Percy was still tense. At Artemis' word, the Hunters set up seven tents around a campfire, making to rest for a few hours. Most of the girls ignored him, but a few sent him very hostile glares whenever he passed them.

Nico was talking with Grover about a game called Mythomagic. Thalia was somewhere else, speaking with Artemis about what they could do to help Annabeth. Once Zoë—the Shakespeare girl—joined their conversation, though, most of their words had turned sour.

Bianca stood by a tree, rubbing her arms to warm herself and looking generally lost. The Hunter she'd been talking to had left, so Percy took the chance to meet with her. He wasn't sure why his body reacted viscerally when he was around her, but if she could give him a clue, it would be worth the minor discomfort.

She saw him approach and looked back at the hole in the ground his construct had made. "That girl doesn't think you did that."

Percy smiled. "I don't think they like Nico or Grover either. At least I'm not being singled out."

Bianca pointed at the hole. "But it was you, right? I know it was."

Percy glanced at her finger, then at her face, moving to her eyes slowly and with caution so he wouldn't be caught off guard. Again he felt the tug at his blood, but resisted frowning. He wondered why she was certain the stake was his.

"Yeah. It was me."

"How?"

"Years of practice," Percy leaned on the tree and crossed his arms. "And natural talent, of course."

"But that shouldn't be possible. That thing was huge. It cut right through the helicopter like butter. And the vines..." Bianca stepped away from him. Fear tinged her expression like when she'd been looking at Thorn. "What are you?"

"A half-blood. You are too, according to Grover and Thorn." Percy flicked the tree, sending over through the bark. He chastised it for choosing Artemis over him. "I'm not angry, just disappointed."

"What?"

"Talking to the tree."

"Yeah… and I thought Dr. Thorn was nuts," Bianca muttered.

Percy tapped the tree when he felt it apologize. Its trunk healed. He looked at Bianca again. "Demigods. One of your parents was a god. Greek god, to be exact. Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter. Those guys."

"Impossible," Bianca whispered. She sounded doubtful of her own word, though.

Percy chuckled through his nose. Steam rose from both nostrils. "It's funny. Not even a week ago I would've said the same thing. But how else could we explain everything that happened today? Thorn? Those headless men? Me?"

"How does any of this make sense? Gods? Monsters?"

"I'm the son of a goddess, which is the only reason I can do this with plants," Percy nodded at the ground, motioning with his hand. A stem pushed through the snow, with one small bulb at its tip while it rose. Once it was just a few inches from Bianca's face, the flower blossomed. A hundred petals of pinkish-purple opened. "Dahlia. Many of its classifications are thought to be some of the most beautiful flowers in the world."

Bianca looked between him and the dahlia. "That girl—Artemis?—said you were Persephone's son."

"Goddess of springtime, flowers, and vegetation." Percy gave her a wry smile. "Didn't even know it 'til Monday. Pretty wild. Still, it explains a lot, if you look at it from an esoteric point of view."

"Eso-what?"

"Obscure." Percy snapped his fingers in a zig-zag formation. The plant's stem did some sassy wiggling. "Grover told me that most of the world isn't aware of the gods and monsters. This thing—this Mist—it covers up supernatural stuff."

"Nico and I…" Bianca glanced at her brother. "We were almost cornered in an alley a while back. It looked like they wanted to hurt us. I thought they were gangsters… but it was weird. They were all dancing and stuff."

"Dancing? Like, the Cha-Cha-Slide?"

Bianca frowned. "They were spinning their knives around."

"MCR then. Or a Lou Bega type? Smash Mouth, maybe."

"Sure. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Never heard of Smash Mouth or MCR? I can understand one, but the other is the band that defined a generation—talking about Smash Mouth, of course."

Bianca shrugged. "I don't know. Things have been pretty strange since our lawyer brought us to Westover."

"Lawyer?"

"Nico and I are orphans. I mean… I thought we were… we've never known our parents. We have a trust fund or something that pays for school. We've been here for… two years? Maybe? I don't know, it's a bit of a haze."

Percy nodded along. "I've been between houses all my life. Sometimes things run together. I get it."

"You're an orphan too?"

"I guess in a practical sense, yeah. For the past sixteen years, I thought my parents were dead. I've been in foster care for as long as I can remember."

"How's that like?"

"Most of the time it's not great," Percy said. He shook his head, smirking ruefully. "Since I had no living relatives, apparently, I've jumped through those state-run group homes. You'd think kids there would get along but…"

Bianca pursed her lips. "That's not the case?"

"Nope. So what about you and your brother?"

She scrunched her face and shivered in the cold. "There was this place—Lotus Hotel and Casino—over in Las Vegas that we stayed at for… I guess it was a long time. I can't really remember too much, but we were there, and then we were here. It all felt so fast."

"And before that? I mean, you had to have been somewhere."

"I… I don't… I don't know," she mumbled miserably.

Percy quirked his eyebrow but dropped it when he saw her troubled expression. He moved off the tree and slowly put both hands on her shoulders. When she looked at him, he gave her the most reassuring smile he could.

Thankfully, that seemed to do the trick, and she became pensive instead of distressed. Percy pulled away when his fingers itched to curl around her neck and squeeze.

"That was some pretty colorful language you used against Thorn," Percy recalled. He put his hands deep in his pockets to keep from doing anything stupid. "'Son of a French whore', I think you called him?"

At that, Bianca tried to hide between her long hair and the thin jacket she was wearing. She mumbled something that Percy didn't catch.

"What was that?"

She huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. "He had it coming."

Percy chuckled. He could definitely admire her plucky attitude. "Was that Italian you were speaking?"

" _Certo_."

"That's cool. Never heard someone speak Italian outside of, like, old movies. I like the way it sounds. Real pretty."

" _Gr-grazie_." Bianca averted her eyes. If she hadn't stuttered, he would have assumed the red on her face and ears was just from the cold.

There was a derisive snort from behind, making Percy turn to find Zoë glaring at him with open disgust. "Percy Jackson, Bianca di Angelo, come with me. My Lady Artemis would speak with you both—away from prying ears."

 **«Black Cut»**

Though he would rather not have, there wasn't a good way to deny a goddess' summons, and so Percy found himself in Artemis' tent, surrounded by enough animal pelts to start a clothing line.

A brazier filled with smokeless fire was set right in the middle of the tent. Silk rugs and pillows were placed on the ground. Artemis—the pretender, his daughter would insist on reminding him—took her own spot at the far end of her tent. Resting its head on her lap was a deer with gold fur.

Zoë wasted no time leaving Percy's side and sitting beside Artemis. Bianca was offered a pillow close to the life-hacked deer, which she took after a moment of hesitation.

Artemis gestured. "Take a seat, Percy Jackson. No harm will befall you here."

Percy walked around the fire cautiously. He looked at the pillows. His daughter was making an awful lot of noise. The pressure on the stem of his brain had built up again.

"Mind if I make myself comfortable?" he asked politely.

"Please do."

Percy gave her pleased nod and sat down, sprawling his legs. "How can I help you?"

"I'd have Bianca tell me her story, and if you could, please interject with anything you can to help fill in the gaps. Especially with what happened regarding the manticore."

They did as they were told. Percy wasn't sure why she bothered asking him, considering he was pretty fresh to the world beyond the Mist. In the end, he hadn't done much to clear things up, but Artemis thanked him all the same.

Though her face was youthful, it held a deep discontent and disquiet. "And you're certain he spoke of the General? Did he mention any other name? One you may be more familiar with?"

Percy shook his head. "I didn't really have any idea what he was talking about. But no, I don't think he mentioned something I recognized."

"My lady, it simply cannot be," Zoë said, stiffer than a board. Her jaw was painfully taut. "He couldn't have escaped."

Artemis regarded everyone in the tent. "Whether that's true or not, we are not those who can say until we've seen it with our own eyes. I'm equally concerned with the manticore's reference to this Great Stirring."

"A monster strong enough to defeat the gods," Bianca was chewing on her fingernail. Now that Percy looked closer, he saw the rest of her nails were a bit uneven. "Is there such a thing?"

Artemis looked at the deer on her lap. "There is only one I can think of that would be awakened without the gods knowing until it was too late. If it has been reborn, then I will have to track and seize it, then bring it to Olympus on the winter solstice."

Percy asked, "Why the solstice?"

"The solstice, both winter and summer, is when all Olympians gather to convene a council. The minor gods also gather on Olympus for festivities. One is the longest day of the year, and a time when our power is greatest. The other is the darkest day of the year when evil is at its peak."

"Lady Artemis, if we are to hunt this monster—" Zoë leaned forward but was cut off by the goddess raising her hand.

"I will be doing this alone, Zoë. That's an order."

Zoë sat back, grimacing. "By thy command."

Artemis nodded. Percy wondered what the relationship between them was. He could tell they were close, but apart from that, Zoë seemed to be quite enthusiastic about everything concerning the goddess.

"Bianca di Angelo."

Hearing her name called so authoritatively by Artemis made Bianca jump. She looked about ready to salute. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I would like to make you an offer."

"Um…" Bianca looked at Zoë, then at Percy, eventually leading back to Artemis.

"Now that you know you are a half-blood, have you been told your options?"

"No."

Zoë scoffed. "Of course not. Leave it to the boy to neglect mentioning useful information."

"I was just trying to explain things gently. Ease into it," Percy defended with his hands raised. "She was looking pretty freaked when I went to talk to her."

"He did make me feel a bit better about things," Bianca said.

"He was flirting with you," Zoë said icily.

Bianca blinked several times. "He was? I mean—no, definitely not. He was just being nice, right? Right?" She stammered a few times trying to get the words out.

Percy couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "Am I not your type? Do you prefer men who speak Italian? Tall, dark, and handsome?"

"It's not that!" Bianca tried to hide again, shrinking in on herself to become smaller. "I mean—no it's just—okay you're really cool and everything but—"

"I'm just playing around," Percy wanted to wave away the second-hand embarrassment he was feeling. He hadn't expected her to get so flustered over three questions.

"And that's why we can't trust boys," Zoë sneered. "They toy with a maiden's emotions any way they see fit. Despicable."

"Oh c'mon," Percy looked at Artemis, who also had disapproval in her expression. "It was a joke. I was just teasing."

Bianca laughed awkwardly and wiped her palms on her jeans. "Yeah, it's not a big deal guys. Just some harmless fun."

Artemis narrowed her eyes and turned to Bianca. "Many half-bloods are trained to survive at Camp Half-Blood. There you will learn several necessary skills. However, when I can, I typically offer girls a chance to serve me as my handmaidens. And here I am, giving you, Bianca di Angelo, an opportunity to join my Hunters. I'm sure someone has already told you a bit about it."

Bianca nodded. "Jennifer told me a bit about it. Said she hoped you gave me a chance. She thinks I would make a good addition to the Hunt."

Percy turned to her. "Wait, you're thinking about joining? Since when?"

"It is her decision to make," Zoë said, crossing her arms. "Do not attempt to sway her."

Percy wanted to retort somehow. The attitude was really starting to wear thin, and as passive as he'd tried to be, Zoë didn't seem to care for civility between them. If she'd at least pretended to tolerate him, maybe things between them wouldn't have felt so tense.

"I was talking to a girl before you came, Percy. She told me about it," said Bianca.

"You would have a new family. An eternal family here with the Hunters and myself. We would travel around the continental United States." Artemis was driving a hard bargain. "Jessica has already told you the benefits, no?"

"Immortality," Bianca whispered.

Percy hesitated. "Is that… possible?"

Artemis gently ran her hand over the deer's snout. "Of course. All of my handmaidens will never age unless they break their oath or fall in battle. Until that time, they are part of my family. A much more close-knit group than the campers, that is for sure."

"What about Nico?" Percy asked. "He's your _real_ family. I don't see any guys in the Hunt."

"Because I don't accept any," Artemis shrugged. "I am the patron for all young maidens. This does not include men of any age. It would not do well since the Hunters' oath is forsaking romantic love, never growing old, remaining an eternal maiden."

Bianca started biting her nails again. "What would happen to Nico, then?"

"He would go to camp and be trained there. This is about all they can do—boys, I mean. They simply don't have many other options."

"Is… is it really alright to leave him?"

"Bianca, you are a caring person. However, can you honestly say that you'd be willing to bear the weight of responsibility for your younger brother any longer? It is a thankless job, isn't it? You have to be both his sister _and_ his mother at the same time."

Percy could tell how the conversation would end. When Bianca looked at Zoë, it didn't surprise him that she asked, "Is it worth it?"

"Absolutely." Zoë sounded entirely convinced.

Bianca nodded a few times, shooting a glance at Percy. "I accept, then."

"Very well, repeat the following: 'I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis, Lady of the Wilderness and the Moon, the true Patron of Maidens. I vow to turn my back on the company of men and accept a new position as handmaiden of my Lady.'"

After repeating the lines verbatim, Bianca asked, "Anything else?"

"I accept your pledge," Artemis said, causing the fire at the center of the tent to jump.

Percy was on his feet and turning to face the flames in a heartbeat. His eyes scanned the room. The memory of flaming spears intent on skewering him hadn't quite faded from his mind. When he realized nothing was coming, he let go of a breath. His daughter had been ready to protect him, and he could still feel her influence lurking under his skin, pulsing in his veins, creeping around his ligaments.

She was still upset that he was choosing to parlay with Artemis, instead of doing something drastic. Percy could taste her irritation with him. Eucalyptus and rotten meat made for a memorable combination, to be sure.

"Does fire scare you?" Artemis asked.

Percy scoffed. "Considering my whole schtick is 'nature, vegetation, and becoming one with the flowers' I'd say it's a perfectly normal aversion."

"Good to see arrogance tempered with deadly fear," Zoë crossed her arms. "At least now I know to use a torch to fight thee. Much like keeping a rabid dog at bay."

"I could do without the insults, princess," Percy rolled his eyes. "Don't know what your problem is, but I have a feeling it's something to do with _what_ I am, instead of who I am."

"Thou hast no right playing the victim, _boy_ ," Zoë said.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." Percy yawned obnoxiously at her, barely covering his mouth with the back of a hand.

Artemis wasn't having any of it in her tent. "Enough, the both of you. Zoë, don't aggravate him. He's dangerous."

"What?" Zoë pointed at Percy. "Him? A child afraid of fire?"

"He hides it behind the mortar, wood, and stone of his fortress—but this boy is cursed."

Percy stiffened. He chuckled awkwardly and scratched his scalp. "Are all goddesses so nosy? How's a guy supposed to get some privacy around these parts, eh?"

Artemis' gaze softened by a hair. "At least he is a valiant one. Now then, Zoë. While I am away hunting this monster, I would have the Hunters stay at Camp Half-Blood."

"I must object," Zoë immediately shot the idea in the heart, stoic as could be. "Not only do _I_ dislike camp and the campers in general, but so do most of the Hunters."

"My decision is final, Zoë." Artemis sounded like a parent who'd recited the lines several times. "You and the Hunters will stay there until further notice. I won't have you arguing with me."

"But… but… Artemis, we hate it there!" Zoë whined. "Those foolish campers—"

"Surely won't hold it against you for burning down a few of their cabins."

Percy stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Are we sure it's a good idea to let her come along? If she's a pyromaniac, I'd rather let her join you."

"This isn't debatable."

He sighed at hearing that. "How are we gonna get back to camp with all the Hunters?" His wallet in hand, he skimmed through the cash he'd brought. "I don't think I have enough to cover a bus ticket for everyone."

"Woah! How much money do you even have in there?" Bianca asked, peering from Percy's hands to his face curiously.

"Originally, it was enough for six people to get back to New York. Not twenty."

"Are you rich or something?"

"I'm actually a secret oil tycoon."

"What happened to 'becoming one with the flowers'?"

"Ironic isn't it? I hug trees and also give people fossil fuels. I became what I set out to destroy. Woe is me."

"You can't have your cake and eat it too!"

Percy pulled out a chunk of cash from his wallet. "I can always buy more cake and keep it refrigerated." He turned to Artemis. "So how are we getting back to camp?"

Artemis hummed. "I will have my brother take you in the morning. For now, my Hunters will extend their hospitality to you, Thalia Grace, the satyr, and Nico di Angelo. We will rest until dawn, and then I shall begin my hunt for this new threat."

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 **A/N: I forgot to mention last chapter, but yes, I aged Nico and Bianca up by two years. Moving on; since I don't know when the di Angelos were born, I'll just say that they left Italy at the height of World War 2, and so may have been influenced by the politics of the time. Truthfully, I don't know what the general Italian populace thought of Mussolini's ambitions to expand and how that affected their personal outlook of the French and other imperial targets. Since Italy tried to eat some of France, I assume there was some rhetoric used to justify such.**

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 _ **Review Response-**_

 _ **Guest: Continue it shall.**_

 _ **SuperKami God: The cuts are really just a stylistic choice on representing the day/night cycle. I had thought about using them symbolically but decided against it to save myself the headache. Thanks for the kind words, too! I try my best to deliver fresh, organic, free-range chapters each and every time.**_


	5. That's Emperor to You, Punk

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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5\. That's Emperor to You, Punk.

* * *

"Ah, wait, wait! I feel a poem coming on."

The sun god, Apollo, who looked little more than a teenager with perfect teeth and hair, cleared his throat. Around him, the Hunters all groaned.

" _There once was a goddess from Sparta._

 _Her bosom would surely confound ya._

 _I went to speak,_

 _Her smile was weak,_

 _And now I run for Jakarta._ "

Percy applauded the limerick, and, upon looking around, found himself to be the only one actually doing so. Everyone else wasn't nearly as impressed, or if they were, chose to keep it to themselves.

"Just one, huh?" Apollo's smile dimmed slightly. "Tough crowd. Say, you're Persephone's kid, right?"

Squinting, Percy nodded and stepped away from the slush at his feet. The god had ridden in on a red sports car, blazing through the sky as if he owned the airspace. Percy assumed the vehicle was actually Apollo's chariot, just adapted to fit modern western society. Smoke curled up and off the hood's glossy finish.

Checking his watch, Percy yawned. Since the group had needed to wait until sunrise for Apollo to show up, Artemis made them stay in camp for the entire night. She even asked her Hunters to set an extra tent for Grover, Thalia, Nico, and Percy.

Though he wasn't sure about the others, Percy hadn't been able to sleep. He found it hard to relax surrounded by a bunch of girls who seemed ready to spring and attack at the first sneeze he made. So instead, he'd kept by the treeline, awake and alert for hours until Artemis gathered them for her brother's arrival.

Apollo appraised Percy with interested eyes. "Is that a Dior I see?"

Percy smiled and threw his hand up, putting the watch on display. "Good eye! The Chiffre Rouge C03 by Dior. Black calfskin strap and a function to indicate moon phases."

"She's a beaut!" Apollo whistled.

"Don't I know it," Percy sighed. He snuggled with the watch, affectionately rubbing his cheek to the gray metal body. "She's like a second daughter to me. Money well spent."

"You can't just buy a daughter!" Bianca slapped her face.

" _Watch_ me," Percy said. He chuckled. "Get it… _watch_ … watch me? 'Cuz of the watch… oh come on that was a good one!"

"I agree." Apollo nodded.

They bumped fists. "Boom, a god just backed me up. Your loss, di Angelo."

Artemis shook her head. "It was too obvious. And you explaining it just lessened the impact."

Bianca gave Percy a smug smirk. "I think it's fair to call this a draw now."

"Apollo, dude, help me out here."

The god shrugged. "She's one of my little sis' Hunters now. If I bother them too much, she'll do something rather unpleasant, and I'd prefer to just avoid all that."

Percy grumbled under his breath. "It was good. The Hunters just don't have a sense of humor."

"What was that, boy?" Zoë growled.

"It makes sense now that I know who your lieutenant is."

A bow seemingly sprang out of nothing into Zoë's hands. On her back, a quiver full of arrows appeared as well. "Know thy place!"

"That's a bad idea," Apollo frowned. He looked at his sister. "You'd better tell her to—"

"I've already mentioned it," Artemis said. "Zoë, stand down."

"But!—"

An arrow already nocked, Zoë kept her aim steadied on Percy. They stared at each other. Sniffing, Percy looked away. "Alright, alright! Let's not fight. I'm sorry for what I said."

"I doubt thy sincerity."

"Zoë, that's enough." Artemis' voice had hardened. "He's apologized for the slight. Now it would be appropriate for you to say you're sorry as well."

"For what?!"

"Drawing your weapon on him, continuing to threaten him, the nuanced misandry…" Apollo counted each item on his fingers.

"That—he—that's not—I wasn't…"

Percy waited. His eyes went back to her bow, intently watching her hands. He could feel her glare on him but ignored it in favor of his safety. Tense silence. Very tense, he thought to himself. So much so that it made him close one eye from the pressure in his skull. Had staying up all night made him susceptible to irritability and lessened his ability to cope with stress? By the way he analyzed his own thoughts, he would say it had.

But, as he tried to relax his posture, he realized he had actually been tense for hours on end. His back ached. The muscles there were corded and strung tight. The blood in his veins felt viscous, like sludge. How he hadn't come to sense such signs was troubling. And now, he could also see why his daughter had been so fervent.

This feeling wasn't new. It had been with him since that first night at camp.

When Zoë's fingers twitched, Ranavalona was quick to act. She tore free from him, arm stretching across the distance separating the hunter from Percy. The arrow was let loose but didn't make it even two feet from the bow. Caught in Ranavalona's branching digits, the missile rested easy, stopped from going any further.

All at once, the other Hunters had their own bows out and ready. Ranavalona bristled, her cracked skin shifting. The grass quivered on the ground. Now, the trees and bushes shifted allegiance, recognizing him as sovereign, so too following the grass.

Someone fired another arrow. Again, his daughter intercepted it. From the ground, thick ropes of grass shot up and coiled around the hunter who'd attacked. She was forced to her knees as the grass pulled her down. One particular bundle wrapped around her neck, and soon she was forced to kiss the dirt.

The clearing was suddenly filled with shouting. Thalia was staring Zoë down, spear drawn and ready. Bianca and Nico were speaking in Italian at each other. Artemis was pointing at the Hunters and at the ground, telling them to drop their weapons. Apollo tried to defuse the situation by reciting a famous Shakespearean sonnet. Ranavalona let out a wail of anger, urging retaliation. The Hunters continued to aim arrows at Percy, demanding he let their friend go.

Percy grimaced at the noise, wanting the danger to subside.

The trees did as he asked. Branches grew and bent, shooting down from the conifers. Each bow was broken by the lashing wood before the Hunters could move away. Stakes erupted around them, each tall and thick enough to create a makeshift cage, trapping those caught inside.

Artemis whipped around. "Release them, son of Persephone, or you will have to answer to me."

Though he hesitated, Percy did as she said, forcing the stakes to regress slowly. They hadn't been made on his command anyway, and he really didn't want to fight. But while that may have been true, Percy took his time to examine each hunter. He could have made the stakes crumble away. Letting them sink back into the ground, he felt, sent a much better message.

The trees and grass calmed when he did. Though he hadn't moved an inch, sweat rolled down from his hairline. He took a deep breath, glad to be away from a metropolitan area.

Ranavalona clicked her wood teeth together. The crunching and groaning of a tree fighting against the wind came from her person, filling the otherwise empty air with sound.

Percy swiped with his hand. "They've gotten their warning, Rana. Let's not do anything… uh… rash. And I don't appreciate you going over my head."

Dry leaves rustled. Twigs snapped. Her displeasure made known, she brought her hand down, fingers retracting. She broke the arrows by tightening her fist and casually tossed the pieces back at Zoë, then pointed at her.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? I told you to leave it." Percy grabbed his daughter's wrist. "I won't say it again, Rana."

Her gnarled face turned to him. She leaned down closer, empty sockets boring into him with familiar intensity.

Percy didn't break his stance. He stared right back at her. If he didn't show his severity, she would kill Artemis' lieutenant right then and there. That was just the kind of doting daughter he'd inadvertently created.

With an almost imperceptible nod, Ranavalona sank into the ground. His resolve had been enough to force her away. Letting out a long sigh, Percy fell to his butt and looked at the brightening sky.

Apollo clapped his hands. "So! Who's down to drive the sun?"

 **«White Cut»**

Even though the sun chariot had changed from a sports car to a shuttle bus, Percy swore it still had about a billion horsepower under the hood. Since he wasn't behind the wheel, he couldn't say how it handled, but the way Thalia drove, it must have been harder than riding a bull.

"I think we're killing Christmas!" he shouted as a few trees caught fire in a small New England town's park. "Ho-ho-NO!"

"Speed equals heat, speed equals heat, speed equals heat!" Grover shouted, repeating what Apollo had told Thalia before taking off.

"Can you stop burning down the trees?! Rana is complaining, and she _really_ wants to kill you!" Percy gripped the edge of his seat.

"Woo-hoo! This is awesome!" Nico whooped with joy as Thalia accidentally did a barrel roll.

" _Che palle_! We're gonna die!" Bianca covered her face.

"Take the wheel, Apollo!" Percy covered his ears.

"I'm gonna… oh, gods…" Grover covered his mouth.

Apollo clambered to his feet, looking a bit dazed from hitting his head on a window. "You need to make a right."

Everybody was sent sprawling when Thalia yanked the wheel.

"My bad, my bad. Head's still spinning. I meant left," Apollo said.

Percy blinked the stars from his eyes. "Can my epitaph read 'Loving father, high score holder for Galaga at Dino's Downtown Arcade, nature enthusiast' or is that just overkill?"

"Are any of those true?" Bianca asked over the screams of the Hunters and Grover. She hadn't originally been near the front with Percy, instead having gone to the back with the Hunters, but sometime during Thalia's rodeo, she'd ended up beside him.

"One of the three, yeah."

"There's Long Island," Apollo said, sounding just a bit relieved. He'd done a great job of keeping his composure, Percy noted, even as they all hurtled toward certain doom. "We're gonna want to slow down before landing."

Thalia made some kind of squawking noise. Percy could see Camp Half-Blood through the window as they raced toward it like a bat out of hell. He barely had time to turn his head when Apollo yelled.

The last thing Percy heard was "BRAKE!" before he was jolted forward and his world went dark.

 **«White Cut»**

Percy drifted in and out of consciousness several times. While this wouldn't be the first awakening, it would prove to be the last he'd need. His eyes cracked open. Thankfully, where he was didn't have much in the way of lighting.

He didn't recognize the room he was in. The Hermes cabin wasn't nearly as clean. His head swam with the details of his final memories.

After a quick review, he came to conclude Thalia shouldn't have been allowed behind the wheel. Though he'd never driven, Percy was pretty sure she had done about a hundred things wrong. Sure, the vehicle was technically the sun chariot, but he doubted that justified twenty counts of reckless endangerment.

Rolling onto his side, Percy squinted when he saw the door at the other end of the room. Freedom, it seemed, was only ten feet away, but separated from him by the grueling task of getting out of bed.

The muscles in his body, though feeling similar to warm gelatin, gave him enough strength to stand. He looked around but found nothing of interest in the room. A few framed pictures, a table in one corner, and a fake ficus in the other were all that resided with him. The curtains were drawn over the windows, but a quick glance at his watch told him it was almost time for dinner. He'd been out for most of the day, and that irked him more than he'd care to admit aloud.

Percy grabbed his jacket, which had been placed at the foot of his bed, put his shoes on, and exited through the door.

He recognized the hallway as the second floor of the Big House from Chiron's tour. It was meant to house the injured, with small rooms used for non-serious injuries. The most spacious room on the second floor was used as an infirmary. Percy figured since he'd been in a smaller room, nothing was broken or otherwise irreparably damaged.

Taking the stairs down, he made his way to the porch, then stopped at what he saw. There was a soft layer of snow covering much of Camp Half-Blood. Small lights of red, green, blue, yellow, and magenta flickered on the cabins and illuminated narrow paths where the snow had been cleared for walking. Even the trees in the forest were covered in both white and differing colors.

"Quite lovely, isn't it?"

Percy almost jumped at the voice as it came behind him. He played the scare off by coughing into his elbow a few times. "Chiron, didn't hear you there."

"I can be quite stealthy when I choose. How are you feeling?"

"All things considered, I'm fine… I think. What happened?"

Chiron pointed at the lake, which looked a bit less full than it had yesterday morning. "Thalia crash-landed in the water there. Scared the naiads right in the middle of their crafts. Everybody else made it out fine, but you were unconscious when Nico and Grover brought you off the bus."

"Apollo should have just taken the damn wheel," Percy crossed his arms and huffed, his breath coming out in a white puff.

"Yes, perhaps that would have been wise." Chiron stroked his beard. "Thalia told me what happened in Maine."

Percy gripped his biceps hard. "I—I promised to bring them both back." He closed his eyes and hissed a sigh through his lips. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lost her."

"It wasn't your fault. She would have gone no matter what. Don't despair, Percy. Thalia and Bianca di Angelo have both claimed that Annabeth is still alive."

"How do they know?" Percy opened his eyes again, confused.

"Thalia says Artemis told her there was magic afoot near the cliff. Ms. di Angelo, on the other hand, simply has a… let's call it a _gut feeling_."

"I guess it makes sense for Artemis to know some things," Percy mumbled. He frowned. "But Bianca's gut feeling? That really something we can go off of?"

"Yes."

Blinking at the blunt answer, Percy took Chiron for his word and shrugged. A bit of tension drained out of his body at the news. "If you say so. Let's get down to the real _meat_ of the matter, though."

"And what would that be?"

"When's dinner?"

 **«Black Cut»**

The pavilion was decorated by the same Christmas-style lights Percy had seen around the rest of Camp Half-Blood. He jogged closer and saw people already inside, with nymphs serving food to the various tables. Snow had started to lightly fall once he'd left the Big House, but without wind, the cold was tolerable.

As soon as he stepped onto the marble floor, the dryads closest to him kneeled. They had been a bit more fearful of him ever since Ranavalona revealed herself to them. Unlike the campers, the dryads were able to recognize what significance his daughter held, and it apparently scared them. Aspen, too, had been far more formal with him, tip-toeing on eggshells when she spoke with him.

People would still turn curious eyes at each meal when they saw the dryads revere him. It made getting to his table awkward. When he sat with the Hermes kids, many of them scooted a bit further from him, giving him distance. The first day it happened, right after his claiming, Travis had apologized but explained nobody was willing to die because of Hades' jealousy.

Taking a goblet, Percy filled it with cranberry juice. He smiled politely at the older dryad who put a plate of food in front of him.

"Thank you."

The girl ducked her head. "You're welcome, my lord."

Percy watched as she left. He took his time eating, keeping the largest slice of pizza on his plate untouched. Across the pavilion he saw Thalia sitting alone at the Zeus table, poking at her broccoli, a New York Yankees baseball cap crumpled next to her plate. The kids at the Athena table were listless. Grover sat at the Dionysus table with a few other satyrs.

"Percy?"

Looking up, Percy saw Nico di Angelo take the seat beside him. He'd moved away from the Stolls, who had tried convincing him to sell his Mythomagic cards for a lifetime supply of jawbreakers.

"What's up, Nico?"

The boy shrugged, looking grouchy. "Not much, I guess. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks for carrying me out."

At this, Nico grinned widely. "No problem."

Percy kept eating, covering his mouth when he asked, "You look like you have some stuff on your mind. Is it about Bianca?"

Nico let his smile drop into a frown when he looked at where his sister was seated. The Artemis table was filled by the Hunters, who were busy recreating the image of Valhalla with their laughing, eating, drinking, and singing. They were loud enough to drown out the noise around them. Zoë, being the lieutenant of Artemis, watched over the other Hunters like a mother goose, smiling at their antics.

Bianca was arm-wrestling another girl, losing each time, but having a good laugh at each loss nonetheless. She looked happy hanging out with her new family.

"It's not fair," Nico said. "She gets to be a cool immortal girl and go around hunting monsters while I get left behind. I know I can annoy her… but am I really that bad?"

Percy felt sorry for the kid. Unfortunately, he had no idea what to say given the situation.

He was saved from responding when the other kids started getting up to sacrifice portions of their food in the brazier. Percy did the same, with Nico following right behind.

"That was weird," Nico said when they sat down again.

Percy finished his potatoes. "I agree. But apparently the gods like the smell of burned food or something, so we offer that to them."

"Did you pray to your mom?"

"Yup."

"Artemis said you're a son of Persephone. That's the flower goddess, right? Didn't she, like, get kidnapped by Hades?"

"I think so."

"Is that how you made the wood spikes? Those were super cool. And the way the trees broke the Hunters' bows. _And_ the way you destroyed the helicopter." Nico stopped and took a big gulp of air. "So awesome."

When Chiron came and announced a game of capture the flag, a few people perked up, and the Artemis table erupted into cheering. Percy had only played the game a few times when he was younger at recess, so he wasn't sure what the hype was for.

"How's camp been for you so far?" he asked Nico.

"It's pretty sweet. Swords, rock climbing, shooting bows… I just wish Bianca were around. She's been sticking close to that… Zoë girl ever since we got here. Look! She even has her hair done like the other Hunters! She's never worn it like that."

Percy found that Nico was right. Bianca's hair was braided now, much like Zoë's to some extent. It didn't obscure her face anymore, which probably let her see things better, but also showed a certain kind of confidence that Percy liked to see in people.

He looked back at Nico, and saw the same double-edged flicker to his dark eyes, much like Bianca had. He supposed they were siblings, so it made sense for them to share traits, but he still couldn't stop the clustered sensation of dread when he looked at Nico. At the very least, he was accommodating to the idea of being around the di Angelo kids.

"Sometimes," Percy began, "we want to look like the people we admire."

Nico sulked. "Who should I look like then?"

Percy shook his head. "I dunno. That's up to you to decide, my man. Just be sure to choose a good one."

"So who do you look up to?" Nico asked.

"I'm glad you asked," Percy drummed his fingers on the table, "because honestly, I have no clue."

 **«Black Cut»**

After dinner, the Hunters and campers gathered by the pavilion. Most of the campers had put on some form of armor, while the Hunters chose to stay in their silver parkas and jeans. The snow still fell. The lights still made things look pretty. The sky was still darkened by night and clouds. Between it all, an undercurrent of electric tension ran around the assembly.

Percy strapped on some forearm and shin guards, feeling like the world's most paranoid goalkeeper. Beckendorf helped him with the breastplate and handed him a helmet with blue plumage.

"Awkward energy," Percy noted.

Beckendorf grunted something short. "The Hunters always win these impromptu matches. They don't come around often, but when they do, we have more people in the infirmary than usual."

Percy considered this. "Think we've got a shot?"

"Given what Thalia told Silena and me…" Beckendorf cracked his knuckles. "You've got the home field advantage in the woods. I heard you stopped the Hunters dead in their tracks last night. If you can do that again, we'll be fine."

Without Artemis there to influence the forest, Percy felt like nothing could stop him. In fact, ever since he'd woken up, his energy had been pretty high. Maybe the rest actually did him some good.

A few feet from them, Silena was angrily strapping on her own armor, having waved Beckendorf away. She was grumbling quite loudly.

"What's up with Silena?"

"A few of the Hunters said something bad about love and how it was worthless," Beckendorf whispered. "I don't think she'll get over it for a few days."

"Let's crush them!" Silena pounded her fists, looking at the Hunters with undisguised vitriol. "Let's make them wish they'd never been born."

Percy raised both eyebrows. "She's pretty… intense. Is that the right word?"

Beckendorf nodded. "Sounds about right."

Nico bounded over to them. A scrawny kid, the breastplate looked a couple sizes too big, and his helmet was lopsided. Despite that, Nico seemed raring to go.

"This is so cool!" he said happily. "Look, I got my own sword!" Nico lifted the blade with a bit of awkward effort.

"Nice!" Percy indulged the boy's eagerness.

"Hey, do we get to kill the enemy team?"

Beckendorf shook his head. "Killing isn't allowed. We also try to avoid maiming, but sometimes it's unavoidable."

"Damn—I mean, dang." He looked around and, upon seeing Bianca too far to have heard him, sighed in relief. "It'd be cool if we were made kinda immortal just for the game. Like, if we could be brought back from the dead and kept fighting."

"That's some ominous foreshadowing," Percy said off-handedly.

The next person to join their group was Thalia. She glanced at Percy. There was a hint of bitterness in her face, but she must have realized it, and quickly pulled it off. The Yankees cap was stuffed into her back pocket.

"I want you on defense."

Before she could say more, Chiron slammed his hoof on the pavilions floor, the noise like a small cannon going off. He explained the creek was their boundary line and that campers got the west woods while Hunters got east.

Thalia raised her spear. "Blue! Let's go!"

She was met with cheers from the group of some twenty-odd campers. Percy noted that even though they had the numbers advantage, Beckendorf still wasn't entirely confident in their chance of winning.

Percy was glad the woods had been illuminated by the glowing lights. He'd been there a few times at night the week prior and knew how dark it got.

That said, the decorations made it look like some kind of winter wonderland. The area had great lighting.

It was breathtaking.

Walking through the trees and shrubs with their blue, yellow, red, and pink motes of color cast in long rays across the snow felt magical.

When they reached the base of a massive outcropping of piled rocks, Thalia stopped and pointed at the top.

"Let's put the flag up on Zeus' Fist," she said. "Beckendorf, Travis, Percy, and Nico are on defense. Silena, take Laurel, Jason, and Eason to the left for a fast decoy. Connor, I need you to create as much chaos as you can. Jonas, Shelly, Terrance, Miranda, go with him. Cameron, take the Ares and Hephaestus cabin down the middle and hold them at all costs from crossing. The rest of you are with me. We've got the numbers advantage, but they have the upper-hand in experience. Some of those girls are over a hundred years old, so they know how things go down."

Thalia looked around, stopping to stare at the Athena kids for a few seconds. A horn sounded, and everybody broke off into the groups they'd been placed in. Thalia waited with her group while Silena, Connor, and Cameron shot off into the woods. She counted to ten, then darted to the right, swinging wide around the others.

Beckendorf climbed the rocks and stood near the top of Zeus' Fist, scanning the area. Travis leaned against a larger stone, spinning a switchblade carelessly. Nico was testing his sword and trying to keep his helmet out of his eyes.

Only seconds later, the sounds of yelling and clanging metal filled the woods.

Percy looked around him. There were plenty of those tiny fires at Zeus' Fist and in the surrounding clearing. He and the other defenders would be clearly seen by anyone looking in from the forest.

Crouching, he put a hand on the ground, ignoring the freezing cold as it pushed past the snow. The connection was instant. Most of the trees around him were not tied to any nature spirit, which meant he wasn't invading their privacy. Some of the shrubs were occupied, so he left those alone. The grass, of course, was always his to commandeer. With his vague sixth sense now extended past his body, Percy searched within the immediate fifty-foot diameter.

Because of the snow, he couldn't rely on grass to be much help. Everything on that front felt a bit numb. The shrubs were also less of a boon and more of an obstacle. Only the trees provided him with information he could use, their roots tingling with the vibrations of people stepping above ground.

Not even thirty seconds had passed by when two people started sprinting toward Zeus' Fist.

"They're coming!" Beckendorf shouted from the top of the rocks.

Percy stood up and unsheathed his sword. An arrow flew from the trees, barely missing his chest as he twisted to the side. One person came racing out of the woods.

Zoë moved like a gazelle. Or rather, like some kind of cheetah. A hunting knife in one hand, she took Nico by surprise and disarmed him with a few smooth motions. The kid was flat on his butt in less than a second.

Percy went to intercept Zoë, but another arrow grazed his shoulder. He dived to the side. Several more missiles embedded themselves in the snow where he once stood. His eyes flitted to and fro. Someone was hiding in the treeline.

Hopping up, he kept mobile. Every so often, he would catch a hint of movement and twist his body to dodge. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint where the shooter was at without concentrating on the trees, which usually meant standing still for a while.

"Phoebe, fall back to the creek! I can handle the rest!" Zoë shouted as she performed some colorful gymnastics and threw Travis into the lowermost boulders.

Percy, distracted by Zoë's impressive skills, didn't see the last arrow coming until it hit the snow by his feet. A cloud of yellow gas erupted, the scent of rotten eggs making him cough and gag. He stumbled away from the billowing smoke, clearing his lungs from the burning stench, his nose still stinging from the fumes.

Through watery eyes, he watched as Zoë tussled with Beckendorf. They fought near the top rock pile. It should have been an easy win for the much larger Beckendorf. If he'd gotten a hold of her, Percy doubted Zoë would have been able to break his grip.

Incredible as it was, though, Zoë opened several cuts along Beckendorf's arm with her knife, never once getting caught. She moved like liquid silver, flowing and churning with every strike made against her. Soon, Beckendorf's face met with her foot, and he went down without further preamble.

In a flash, the blue flag was in her hands, and she'd climbed down from Zeus' Fist. She could have taken the long route around. Instead, she chose to cut right across the clearing, charging straight at Percy.

Her body slammed into his and Percy was sent sprawling, but not before his hand latched onto her ankle. His arm was yanked when her leg moved. He held firm and pulled back.

Zoë twisted around and tried to kick him off. Percy let go and shot to his feet.

His shoulder hit her gut and his hands grabbed the back of her knees. Using his leverage, he tackled her roughly, pushing her into the snow using his weight.

They struggled, arms and legs flying as each tried to get the advantage in their wrestle.

Surprisingly, one of her hands grabbed him by the back of the head and stuffed his face into her chest. Percy wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish. Both of them kept scuffling in the cold snow. Then, he realized it was hard to breathe with a nose and mouth full of polyester and cotton. His vision started to lose focus, a thick fuzz settling in his eyesight.

He tried to pull his head away, but she had more strength in her arm than he had in his neck. Without options, he rolled over and managed to loosen her grip, gasping for air. Now, though, he was beneath her.

A fist caught his cheek. Then a second caught his opposite side. Several blows landed on his face before he was able to return the favor.

His fingers wrapped around her neck and he squeezed.

Her nails dug into the skin of his wrist.

He bucked his hips and tossed her off him.

Zoë came up and punted his jaw with her boot.

Percy grabbed her jacket and wretched her back into the snow.

She scrambled up and drew her knife, cutting his palm.

His foot fired out and hit her thigh, pushing her back a bit. Her recovery was fast and brutal, the knuckles of her fist connecting under his jaw.

He tasted blood and smelled mud. A dull throb in both his hand and chin made him wince. Zoë's and his every move caused the snow to slosh and crunch. His heartbeat roared in his ears.

The lights were specks of color—beautiful splashes on the powder.

With that distraction, Zoë jabbed and pierced the inner part of his bicep. Percy pulled away and reached for his sword. Then he recalled it had fallen at some point.

Zoë struck again, like a cobra, and slashed his shoulder. Her eyes shone victoriously, as if she'd somehow disabled him.

The noise around them felt to have dwindled to vague whisperings on the edge of his ears, far away and unimportant. Percy only saw Zoë in front of him. She too, however, became muddled in his vision. Her outline blurred and the detail drained from not only her, but the world at large as well. Smells and tastes were jumbled, though blood pooled under his tongue.

Faster than a viper, Zoë came at Percy again. Her experience outshone his with each move. She would surge and ebb, lashing out with the knife so quick, the metal became little more than a glint of silver. Her motions were economic, practiced, but powerful all the same. When he managed to block one strike, she would tip the dagger and transfer it to another hand effortlessly. The weapon would spin and twirl and twist with each flick of her wrist. Her long fingers deftly juggled the handle so it was never far from her palm.

Interspersed with the slashes were feet, knees, elbows, forearms, and fists, all thrown in to keep Percy off guard. Zoë's style was impossible to discern on first viewing. When one thing failed her, she would move into a grapple and judo throw Percy, reacquainting him with the ground each time.

The fight was Percy's loss. Even though it hadn't ended yet, he knew at the pace they were going, he would be put down.

"Take the flag!" she suddenly shouted.

Percy looked back for a second and saw another Hunter following orders, bolting with the blue fabric in hand.

When he turned to face Zoë again, she had gotten closer to him, enough so that she could jab her elbow into his upper arm. Using the distance she closed, he grabbed and twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop the dagger and go with the rotation.

Foot sliding through the snow, Percy blocked her empty hand when it came around but didn't see her pivot and chop a powerful kick at his thigh. With her shin connecting just a few inches above his knee came pins and needles spreading through the localized area. He pulled back, grimacing at the sluggish response from his muscles. Her slender frame disguised devastating strength.

Zoë feinted several times with her hands. She shuffled forward and exploded off the ground with her supporting leg. The flying knee she executed was perfect, breaking through Percy's defense and hitting his jaw with bone-crunching force.

Head snapping back, Percy's vision swam, and he almost toppled over. A hand on his shoulder caught him from falling.

His daughter gently pulled him away and sat him on the ground. Her gnarled form turned to face Zoë.

Ranavalona wailed. The banshee's shriek shook the grass and warped the trees' bark.

Percy slumped forward, still lightheaded from the knee to his face. He noticed blood streaking his arms from cuts he didn't remember receiving.

Ranavalona stabbed one of her hands deep into the earth.

A moment later, Zoë was dodging out of the way of several wooden tendrils ripping from the snow and soil. The trees behind her shot spines, their bark used as the ammunition, in a fashion similar to Dr. Thorn's.

Zoë managed to roll out of the way of those too.

Plants sprouted and bloomed, all of which Percy recognized to be _Amorphophallus titanum_ , which held the designation of world's worst smelling flower.

Each of the six-foot-tall pods opened to release their fetor. Percy couldn't help but gag. The plant, commonly called the "corpse flower", smelled exactly as advertised. Even the scent from earlier—Percy figured he could call it a fart arrow—hadn't been nearly as potent as the newly grown corpse flower.

And his daughter hadn't just created one. She'd covered the clearing with at least seven of the reeking plants. Percy and Zoë simultaneously vomited into the snow.

Ranavalona, unable to smell anything, stretched her fingers out and seized Zoë, yanking her up, then slamming her down onto the ground.

Percy stood up and managed to croak through his sour mouth, "Enough."

His jaw ached, his arms stung, and his vision was still watery, but Percy glared at his daughter. She had reeled Zoë in closer, holding the girl by her neck a foot in the air.

"I said _enough_." His voice cracked when he caught the stench again. "Put her down. We're done here."

The response he met with surprised him. His daughter scraped out a crunching laugh. To taunt him, she lifted Zoë even higher, her other hand twisting and narrowing until it was a lance. She positioned the tip over Zoë's heart and looked at him. Just from their connection, Percy knew what she was saying.

"Don't. We can't fight an angry goddess," he warned, taking a cautious step forward.

Ranavalona was unperturbed by his plea. She looked at him expectantly. She knew that, eventually, he'd crack and give her what she wanted. Unfortunately, they were on opposite spectrums in that regard. Her desires and his were, for the most part, incompatible. Only his continued safety concerned her as much as it did him. That was what they could find common ground on.

"Ranavalona. Stop."

Her teeth chattered in anticipation. The lance reared back to impale Zoë.

"Don't you dare!" Percy swung his own arm down.

His fingers cut through her lance. He stepped in and brought his hand up, separating her other forearm from the bicep, freeing Zoë. Twisting he drove his fist into his daughter's stomach, punching right through her bark and writhing vines.

Percy closed his eyes and put his forehead against her chest.

"Do you like pissing me off?" Percy asked dryly. He looked up at her. Since she was so tall, he had to crane his neck to find her sockets. She couldn't smile or show much emotion physically, but he knew if it were possible, Ranavalona would be smiling like a loving child at him.

"Jeez, you're way too needy."

She clicked her teeth once. Small pieces of her viney insides attached to the skin of his hand, which was still buried in her stomach. Like tendons, the segments of her body burrowed under his flesh, dissolving once they were inside him. Nutrients the likes of sulfur, boron, copper, and manganese, among others, passed from her into him. Once he'd taken a substantial amount of each, Percy yanked his hand free.

"We're a team, Rana," he said, turning away from her and shaking his head. "Don't forget that."

Her body creaked.

"I know you do. But there's a reason I don't. It's... terrifying."

His daughter crumpled under the insistent pull of gravity, unable to exact her conscious without his consent anymore.

Now that more of Ranavalona coursed through his veins, Percy felt the heaviness in his limbs lighten. He grew another datura and let the plant reach his mouth. The flower bloomed, and he took a bite, face twisting at the bitterness. He looked at his arms, which were covered in blood.

Percy checked the cuts carefully, watching in morbid fascination as more blood trailed down his biceps and forearms, ending in droplets falling off his fingertips. Then, he started to feel the pain.

Crouching, he ran his hand over the cold ground. _Drosera rotundifolia_ , a carnivorous sundew plant, sprouted. The leaves of this particular plant excreted a viscous mucilage on each of its reddish-brown hairs. These drops, which looked like dew, were the plant's way of attracting small insects to it. Once an insect touched the mucilage, it would be stuck, glued in place as it was slowly digested by enzymes.

Watching as the plant grew, Percy pushed for more of the viscous mucilage to be produced. Once it was practically dripping from the leaves, he applied the substance to each cut on his arm, a stopgap he often used to glue his wounds shut. He blew cold air on each swath to dry it faster, then stood up and walked over to Zoë, who was staring at him enigmatically.

Zoë sat with her legs crossed, apparently comfortable even though her pants must have been soaked.

"Thou are… truly something else, Percy Jackson."

A horn blew as Zoë finished speaking. She looked back into the woods, then raised her head to the sky and sighed.

"To think it ended as such," she said, rubbing her face tiredly. Her obsidian eyes focused on him, scrutinizing every inch. "Thy appearance belies thy abilities. Thou cannot be human."

Percy smiled and replied with a smarmy, "Well that's because I'm a demigod. Not fully human, remember?" He put his hands on his hips and stretched, only to wince at the biting wounds.

Zoë wasn't impressed. "At least that vile scent has gone from here."

Nodding, Percy glanced around at the dry husks of the corpse plants. "Tell me about it. Those things're nasty."

"And that creature… can thou not handle a fair battle?"

"How old are you?"

Zoë stood up. She didn't quite match his height but wasn't far off from meeting him on equal ground. "I do not see how this is relevant."

"You think it's fair for a highly experienced Hunter to fight against a guy who _just_ learned about all this god-related stuff." He rolled his eyes. " _And_ I wasn't looking to hurt you, or anyone, this whole time. At least, not at first."

"Thou tried to strangle me."

Percy cleared his throat and looked away. "You attacked me first."

"I was content with thy position on the ground. Recall who attempted to trip me."

"Couldn't let you get the flag. That's the whole point of the game."

"This argument is pointless. We fought to a standstill."

"Uh-huh." He decided to leave that topic alone.

Zoë, though, had other plans. "That does not sound like agreement."

"Well…" Percy picked at his thumbnail, a bad habit he'd picked up during his childhood. He tried to think of a way to rebuff her without sounding too rude. "It was _technically_ a draw."

" _Technically_?" She stressed the word like he had, unwilling to drop the subject.

"Look," he gave her an aggravated sigh, "let's not get into it. We've fought enough for one night. I'm ready to take a shower and hit the hay, y'know?"

Zoë opened her mouth but crossed her arms and nodded. Nico, Beckendorf, and Travis were all on their feet again. They walked over, warily watching as Zoë stepped away from them and leaned against a tree.

"You okay, Percy?" Travis asked. "That chick hits like a truck."

"I'm fine." His voice couldn't convince anyone.

Beckendorf grunted and pulled out a small square of ambrosia, handing it over. "Here, you look like you could use this."

Percy had learned of ambrosia and nectar the second day he'd been at camp, after a particularly large glob of lava had landed on his hand while he was climbing the rock wall. The stuff was magical, to be sure. He didn't even have a scar to show for the experience.

"Thanks," Percy said, eating the ambrosia. The flavor was peculiar—a mix of the best marinated carne asada he'd had, and ginger ale. In any other situation, the texture and taste together might have revolted him, but not with ambrosia.

"Let's get to the creek and see who won," Beckendorf said.

"No need." Chiron and the other Hunters and campers walked into the clearing. "The Hunters won again."

Zoë looked gobsmacked. "Truly?"

"Fart arrows are unsportsmanlike!" Thalia said.

"Seconded," Percy gave a thumbs-up.

"Thou hast no right to speak!" Zoë shot.

"Whoa! You guys have a mummy too? So awesome!" Nico exclaimed, garnering everybody's eyes.

He pointed at the trees, where the shriveled corpse of a woman in a psychedelic sundress staggered through the snow.

Her dead, glassy eyes located Zoë. A voice slithered into Percy's brain, only exacerbating the phantom itch he regularly combated.

 _I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python_. The sibilant nature of her voice was offset by a certain roughness. _Approach, seeker, and ask._

Zoë looked around, seemingly lost by what the mummy was saying. Nobody else so much as twitched. She closed her eyes, scrunched her face, and took her time to think.

A minute must have passed where nobody spoke. Zoë finally nodded, opened her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"How can I help my goddess?"

Green mist escaped the mummy's maw when it opened, seeping into the snow.

Percy listened to the lines, coming to realize the thing that stood before him was, in fact, the Oracle of Delphi. And she had just delivered a prophecy in which two people would die to save a chained goddess.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm no poet, so the limerick was probably hot garbage, but hey, I think I would've butchered a haiku even more. Let's see, the quest is gonna deviate since fanfiction. Thanks to everyone who keeps supporting me through reviews and feedback of what they thought. And to those who follow and favorite.**

* * *

 _ **Review Response-**_

 ** _Guest: No problem. Thanks for the feedback._**


	6. Atlas

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

6\. Atlas and the Competitive Market for Half-Blood Recruits

* * *

As soon as the prophecy had been doled, the cabin leaders withdrew to the Big House for a meeting. Everybody else cleaned up and put their equipment back in the armory, as per the Hephaestus cabin's orders.

Grover and another nearby satyr were tasked with getting the Oracle of Delphi back to wherever she came from.

The rush of bodies pushing through the winter night, skirting by the glowing lights, reminded Percy of the shopping malls just a week or two before Christmas morning. He handed his armor and sword to Jake Mason, the next most senior Hephaestus camper behind Beckendorf.

"Breastplate. Helmet. Greaves. Vambraces," Jake checked the small tag on the inside of each piece, making small marks on the paper next to him. "Alright, you're good to go. Thanks for bringing everything back in good condition, too. Travis had a big dent in his armor."

Percy nodded, wincing at the memory. "Yeah, the lieutenant girl kinda… fused him with the bottom of Zeus' Fist. I kid you not, she threw him like a bag of rice."

Chuckling, Jake said, "I would've paid a drachma or two to see that."

Outside of the armory, several groups milled about, discussing the prophecy and what it could possibly mean. Percy passed by, hearing a few theories and agreeing with those

who thought the chained goddess was Artemis. Given how Zoë phrased the question, the Oracle must have been talking about Artemis.

How did it happen, though? Percy kept going over the possibilities.

An Olympian like Artemis—someone with all that power—probably wouldn't have been willingly chained. She'd probably been beaten down and subdued. If that was the case, whoever got the job done ranked high on Percy's "don't-invite-out-to-dinner" list.

Maybe the General had done the deed?

Percy trudged through the snow until he reached cabin eleven. If he were to meet the mystery General, what would he do? Could he fight? Certainly not without a cost. And it would be difficult since Ranavalona was becoming antsier as time went on.

Tonight, for example, had been tough.

Taking more of Ranavalona's freedom shouldn't have been the answer; she normally didn't need to be restrained through drastic, dangerous measures.

But it was clear he couldn't trust her to act with tact anymore.

Ever since his claiming, he'd tried to stifle her rebellion, hoping it would pass as time went on and she grew accustomed to the change in scenery. Unfortunately, he hadn't expected circumstances to work against his efforts.

She'd gotten what she wanted in the end, having pushed him to repossess part of her initiative. He took back something he once gave to her, and for it, felt a bit bloated.

Percy stopped on cabin eleven's porch. He looked at his hands, rigid and stained as they were. His fingers curled, clenched, and cracked.

The first punch he threw was a light jab. The second, an uppercut. The third came as a right cross.

For a few seconds, he kept going, shadow-boxing under the glow of green and red lights. The pain had long since gone, no doubt thanks to the ambrosia. But above that, his body was filled with liquid energy. He could feel the difference in how fast his arm shot out with each punch.

Letting his hands fall, Percy resolved to give Ranavalona her initiative back after a few days if she behaved. He didn't have fond memories of the times she was restrained.

 _She doesn't deserve that. It's just a bit of challenging my authority. Nothing to get worked up about,_ Percy thought.

Pushing the door open, he stepped into the cabin. Inside, he changed his ruined clothing. As he pulled out toothpaste and other nightly essentials, a small folded piece of paper fell from the duffel bag. It dropped to the floor innocently enough. A string kept the paper from opening.

Percy stowed his bag, kneeling to grab the fallen object. He knew what this was. There was no way it could have been anything else. He'd watched plenty of Japanimation, and was well-versed in the cliches of the medium.

 _The legendary confession of love from a secret admirer? Hm... who do I hope wrote it? Thalia? Maybe. Bianca? Unfortunately impossible. Miranda? Kinda weird, since she's my aunt, but that never stopped the Greeks before. One of the nymphs? I'd rather not deal with that kind of relationship in their case. Options, options, options._ Percy stared at the paper in thought. Its color was plain, unassuming, though the twine was neatly tied as a bow. The texture was a bit rough, like the papyrus he'd used in Freshman Art last year.

Carefully plucking at the piece of yarn, he pulled the cord and unfolded the letter.

He read what was written. It was distinctly written in a language he guessed could be Greek. At the very least he knew it wasn't English.

Rubbing his eyes, he scanned the note again. The characters on the page didn't change. He folded the paper and placed it under his nose. Jasmine, sweet alyssum, wisteria, and lily-of-the-valley all popped in their varying fragrances, swallowing his nose whole. Pictures of a summer's evening lost in some wonderful garden of rainbow colors teased him.

Percy clutched the letter closer to his chest. It almost felt to warm up as it got closer to his heart.

The scent was as beautiful as it was overpowering.

After standing like that for a while, Percy slid the letter into his wallet and, as was his habit, went to brush his teeth.

↞ **Black Cut↠**

The next morning, Sunday, Percy was up and out for his daily run when he saw Nico di Angelo hunched behind a column at the dining pavilion. The sun wasn't even out yet, so Percy had to wonder what the kid was doing skulking around. He slowed and crept closer.

As he neared the pavilion, two voices jumped out at him from further inside. Zoë and Bianca, he could barely discern.

"We can't use that… ambrosia stuff to help heal her?" Bianca fretted.

"I'm afraid not," Zoë replied, her tone colored red with anger. "Centaur blood, depending on which species, acts like an acid. I don't know where they got it from, however, the Stolls must have applied it to that shirt. Phoebe should have known better than to accept 'gifts' from Hermes' spawn."

"How long will she—"

"Even if we gave her nectar and ambrosia, it would take several days until she could move without pain. Even then, her severe discomfort would only hinder us on this kind of quest," Zoë said.

"You know a lot about this stuff, huh?" Bianca said.

"I've had centaur blood spilled on me. It is _not_ a pleasant experience. I would rather have Phoebe rest in bed for the duration of her affliction."

Percy crouched when he was a foot away from Nico. Reaching out, he gave the kid a light tap on the back. Nico spun around, startled, and Percy put a finger to his lips.

"So we need to find another person to come on the quest, right? It's still early, so let's go back to cabin eight and get someone." Bianca sounded pretty optimistic.

"I don't believe that is a good idea," Zoë said.

"But the prophecy said 'five shall go west', not four. Shouldn't we try to follow along?"

"The prophecy said we would lose one in the land without rain. The camp has weather protections. This can very well be part of the prophecy."

"You said you had a dream, though. The girl who fell was with Artemis, and the General—"

"To think he could have escaped…" Zoë sounded more than a little troubled. She seemed horrified.

"Who is the General anyway?" Bianca asked.

Percy and Nico both leaned around the corner to hear the answer. With the way Thorn went on about the General, he must have been important.

"A threat. This is all I'm sure my goddess would have me say, so as to not distract you on our quest. We must find a way to burden him once more. Please… _please_ do not press on the matter."

"Okay… I won't."

"I thank thee. Now come, dawn is nearly upon us, and we must still double-check our equipment. Hopefully, those campers have prepared well for this."

Sliding around the column, Percy pulled Nico along so they wouldn't be seen by the passing Hunters.

Once Bianca and Zoë were far enough away he stood up and stretched, finally letting some blood circulate again.

The snow had been swept from the pavilion's steps, but a thin layer of frost patterned the marble. Percy's shoes were soaked, his feet numb from the time he spent running through snowy slush.

"What're you doing up, Nico? It's early."

"I… I don't sleep great. I heard you get up, and a few minutes later, they walked by the cabin, talking about getting revenge on the Stolls." Nico looked away, ashamed.

Percy cocked his head back. "So you thought 'Oh, yeah, they totally want me to follow them and eavesdrop on whatever conversation they have going.'"

Nico blushed. "Uh… um… well, they wouldn't want me to follow them, I knew that…"

"But you did it anyway."

"Ca… ca…"

Percy crossed his arms. "Your blonde vampire cosplay needs work."

Nico scratched his head. "W-what? That was so specific."

"Well I can't rightfully say any more without looking stupid, now can I?"

"I—have—no—clue—what you're trying to tell me."

"Not important. Look, Nico, you aren't going to… do something stupid, right?"

"Like what?" Nico chuckled awkwardly. "Not much I can do. Bianca's going on a quest… without me… so I'll just have to, like, live with it."

"I don't wanna call you a liar or anything, but jeez, couldn't you have been a _bit_ more convincing than that?" Percy ran a hand through his hair. "You're gonna try and follow them, huh?"

"No! I—I wouldn't do that."

"Really?" Percy drawled. He leaned against the column they'd been hiding behind. "Are you sure about that?"

"No! Er… I mean yes?! Wait… you're confusing me… stop laughing!"

Percy hid his smile behind a hand. "Sorry. But really, you can't go after them. Not a good idea."

Nico's eyes darkened, those inky pits of black falling deeper. "Why? Am I not old enough? You can't tell me what to do."

"True," Percy looked in the direction of the Big House, where Zoë and Bianca had been going. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "But I bet if Bianca caught you, she'd be pretty angry. And Zoë… uh… how do I say… she doesn't like guys." He glanced at Nico again, finding the darkness in the boy's eyes to have gone.

"I guess I didn't think about that."

"Yeah. Not to mention the monsters. You've been at camp for a day. You don't know your godly parent. You haven't found a special ability to use. It would be _way_ too dangerous if you went on a quest."

Nico lowered his head. "Yeah… I guess you're right."

Percy watched as the boy's face became unbearably sad. Putting a hand on Nico's shoulder, he gave the worst, most over-exaggerated wink he could. "Well, hey, I'll be going along with them. What if I promised to watch over your sister? Made sure to keep her safe, yeah?"

"You'd do that… for me?" Nico asked.

"Yup. As long as I'm around, nothing bad will happen to Bianca."

"Promise?"

Smiling, Percy gave Nico's shoulder a good squeeze. "Cross my heart, hope to die."

"Stick a needle in your eye?"

"Hopefully nothing so crazy, but sure. Stick a needle in my eye."

"Then get going! They're gonna leave any minute now," Nico grinned. "Thanks, Percy, you're the best!"

Laughing to hide his embarrassment, Percy ran back to the Hermes cabin before the sun rose.

 **«White Cut»**

Incidentally, just a bit before cabin eleven, Percy saw the young fire-girl sitting by the huge pit. She was reading a newspaper, which he found a bit odd for her age. Glancing over her shoulder, he saw the article was about a grisly string of homicides in some place called Sammamish, Washington.

"Oh, hello, Percy Jackson," the girl said, having turned to face him. Her eyes were hidden behind oversized, polka-dot sunglasses. "How are you this morning?"

"Uh… good, thanks," Percy was lightly jogging in place, still aware of the time limit he had. "How 'bout you?"

 _Strange little fire-girl,_ he added to himself.

"I'm doing well. Mind you, if the state of the world was in better shape, I think my morning would have been considerably more enjoyable. Political maneuvering, acts of terrorism, disease, fratricide, patricide, matricide… ah, but it's always been this way, I suppose. Just on a smaller scale." Her choice of words clashed with her age. She sounded as if time had worn her down.

Percy shook the thought away. "Kids shouldn't be reading the news. It's too dark. And let me tell you, the dark is pretty darn scary."

"I'm aware. Once, my brother led the rest of my siblings and me through a series of underground tunnels. We were… younger, and many of us were quite afraid of the dark, but not my oldest brother. He took the lead and gave us all the courage to continue."

The girl paused thoughtfully and smiled. "Yes. If you ever meet him, be sure not to judge too harshly. He can seem dark and cruel, but beneath it all, he's a very lonely person. Such doesn't excuse his behavior, but sometimes a little empathy can go a long way in building healthy relationships."

"Empathy, huh? Which one is that again? I always get it mixed up with sympathy…" Percy mentally kicked himself for admitting to some child that her vocabulary was more advanced than his.

"To put oneself in another's position. Take their perspective and look at a situation the way they would. Empathy may often have negative connotation, but it can easily be applied to any emotion. Sympathy, on the other hand, can typically be seen as concern for another person, and a wish for them to find better times. One does not need to walk in another person's shoes to sympathize."

Shaking his head, Percy crossed his arms and stood still. "You're a really smart kid, huh? So, who is your brother, then? Wait… I never even caught _your_ name."

The girl opened her mouth, then cocked her ear up. "I apologize, it would seem I've kept you for too long. The camp van just left, along with those partaking in the quest."

Percy groaned. "Damn. Oh, uh, I mean _dang_. Pretend you didn't hear that, will ya?"

She smirked and covered her ears, still holding the newspaper in one hand, making it droop comically over her face. "Hear what? See what? Who's there?"

He chuckled. "That's the spirit. Ah, too bad I don't even know where they're going so I can meet up with them."

"Are you so sure that is a wise idea? Zoë Nightshade doesn't seem to like you." The girl brought her hands down to rest on her lap.

"As soon as I heard them saying Annabeth was with Artemis, I knew I'd be going. I let Chiron down once already."

"You do know there are rules for leaving camp without permission, right?"

"Someone might've mentioned them at some point."

"And you'd break them to help a girl?"

Percy shielded his eyes from the sun as it rose over the Atlantic. "Not just any girl. I gave my guarantee. So it's more than saving Annabeth, I guess."

The girl frowned. "It's a point of personal pride for you now."

"I don't like letting people down," Percy nodded. "It's not my style. So yeah. Personal pride. Wow, you're really observant."

"But you never give anything your best effort."

Percy looked at the girl carefully. He grinned and ruffled her head of wavy brown hair. "I'm thinking about changing that, kiddo. Wish me luck."

The girl smoothed her mussed hair, no outward irritation visible. "Quite so. Now, shouldn't you be going off to find the questers?"

"I don't know where they're going, though."

"I'm confident you'll find your way, Percy Jackson. Good luck."

She turned around and tossed the newspaper into the glowing embers. The edges crinkled orange and black as it burned. The last thing Percy saw of the article was the picture of a lake in Sammamish and an odd phrase: " _BACK FROM THE DEAD OR SICK COPYCAT?_ "

 **«White Cut»**

Standing atop Half-Blood Hill, with a fresh set of clothing, Percy rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. How he was supposed to find where the questers went rolled around his brain. He didn't know the first thing about real, epic, continent-spanning quests.

There were a lot of options, he supposed, for their destination. West was both a clear and vague direction to travel. How far west Annabeth and Artemis could be was something he kept in mind.

It may turn out the prophecy meant West Virginia. Surely that was wishful thinking. On the other hand, it could also mean all the way to the West Coast. And if that were the case, he'd have to figure out which state it was referring to. Washington, Oregon, and California were the furthest out west.

Well, those, Alaska, and Hawaii, but Percy doubted it would be either of the non-continental states. He wasn't sure why the thought of Alaska, with its cold desolation, brought him anxiety.

 _No, definitely not Alaska. It feels like a place even the gods would avoid. Way too spooky,_ he thinned his lips while he thought.

Hawaii, too, didn't taste right in his mouth. Too much ash. He couldn't find a reason for someone as foreboding as the General to keep a goddess chained there.

 _Not enough despair, really. It doesn't scream "hostage situation" to me._ Percy pulled his hair in frustration. The questers must have known where they were going, right? So if he just found them, he'd be golden.

But looking for a white van in a city like New York would be appropriate with the analogy "needle in a haystack". They had a ten-minute head-start, too, which didn't help.

The only thing that popped to mind was for him to re-trace Artemis' steps and hope he ran into the group at some point. But how could he track her down? She was a hunter—one of the best—so her trail would probably be well covered.

Thinking back to her, he recalled one thing she'd said, about their connection through the wooded area by Westover Hall.

"Rana."

His daughter stood beside him, given just enough of a leash to manifest and leave his side. "I need you to go back to Westover. See if you can find a dryad. If you don't, try looking for something that might lead us to Artemis."

She looked down at him.

"Artemis. The goddess we met. Short-stuff with auburn hair. About… 'this' tall, probably has a lousy sense of humor."

Her stance didn't change.

Sighing, Percy said, "The pretender."

And with that, Ranavalona nodded in agreement, molding her body into the nearest tree on the hill and disappearing from sight. Through their bond, he felt when she arrived at the clearing in Westover, emerging from a local conifer.

She started her search of the area.

Percy didn't know how long it would take until she found something, so he left Half-Blood Hill, waving goodbye to Peleus on the way down. Making it to the road still didn't get him any cell reception, so he kept going until he found a spot.

From there, he called for a cab on his second phone and rode it to Queens, opting for breakfast at a nice Cuban restaurant he liked to haunt. Since it was still early, there was nobody else around, only the workers going about their business.

It was a small place. There were only tables, no booths, and just enough space to comfortably fit thirty customers. The walls had recently been repainted a wine-red color. He noticed a few new decorative plants hanging from the ceiling, too, along with the polished floor.

He got his meal quickly, having taken his usual spot closest to the restrooms. The food was delicious, as he expected. Dipping the last of his grilled bread into his coffee, Percy saw someone approach.

Patting his stomach, he smiled at Samuel, one of the oldest waiters working there.

"Anything for dessert, _señor_?"

"Afraid not today, Samuel," Percy said, finishing off his food.

The man wiped his dirty hands on the greasy apron around his waist. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's been a while since your last visit."

Percy felt his daughter call for him. He stood and left some money on the table. "I've been around. Chinese, Thai, French, Jamaican, Italian. There's been a lot for me."

"You must have good connections." Samuel handed Percy his bills back. "Don Luis made it clear you weren't to pay until you got your check. Clearly, I haven't brought it to you."

Sighing, Percy took the cash and put it in his wallet again. "Well, there isn't a rush. I won't have dessert for a while."

"Will it be so easy telling that to the others? Don Luis thinks highly of you. I wouldn't give him a reason to change his mind."

"I've never been exclusive. What happens between the restaurants around here… it's all on you guys. I stay out of that."

Samuel laughed and shook his head. " _Sois como un forajido_. An outlaw. Fugitive. You can't expect to straddle the line the rest of your life. You can't make everyone happy."

Percy smiled and made for the door, waving at the familiar staff as he passed. "Doesn't mean I can't try."

 **«White Cut»**

Somehow, Ranavalona had found exactly what she needed to identify Artemis. A hint of the goddess' dominant power lingered in parts of the woods by Westover.

Unfortunately, that didn't actually help Percy much when it came to tracking.

"What do you mean you can't get a read on her?"

He looked at his daughter in consternation, tapping his foot impatiently on the dirt. His hand was attached to her, and he fed her back what he'd taken last night.

After Ranavalona had made contact with him, Percy left the restaurant and ran into Forest Park, which was just a few blocks from the Cuban eatery. Now, with him in his element, Percy nursed a growing disappointment in himself.

"Look, Rana," he said, yanking his arm away when she was topped off, "you need to find a way to track her. We've gotta know where she went."

His daughter crossed her arms defiantly. She looked away with her hollow eyes, staring at a few passing joggers on the designated pathway. Both she and Percy were hidden further in the thicket, trees and large shrubs covering them from the curious.

"Sheesh, I know you don't like her. I get it. Honestly, I don't either, but I need you to try harder."

She gave him a contemptuous stare.

Percy balked. "I'm thinking about it. I mean, I'll put more effort in, yeah, but you can't expect me to just go back on years of—"

He stopped talking when she turned her back to him. Her body groaned as it shifted.

"Rana… I can't make that kind of promise. I need you to stick with it for a bit longer."

Though she was facing away from him, Percy could see her body tremble. He felt the unpleasant emotions that corkscrewed through their connection.

"You'll be free one day… I can promise that much," he mumbled. Now that she was complete and whole, he was left feeling a bit more empty. The energy from before slipped out of him. "But not now. Just hang in there… for me, alright?"

Cold anger seethed into him by way of Ranavalona. They both knew it would be a good, long while before he entertained the idea of upholding his promise. After all, he'd been asking her to "stick with it" for years now.

Percy could only apologize in response.

 **«White Cut»**

In the end, Ranavalona had been able to catch a lead on where the goddess went after she left Maine. While the trail wasn't continuous, there were spots in nature where Artemis' distinct power still tainted. The clues ended in the nation's capital.

Washington D.C. wasn't a place filled with wilderness, but Artemis' _flavor_ hovered around a small cluster of trees in the West Potomac Park.

Ranavalona, after having traveled across three other states, made her way there first. Percy followed, using his daughter as a tether for his own transportation.

Well, his daughter was the only target he could travel to—while she had her liberties, that was—so he was short on options in that regard.

As soon as Percy stepped through into D.C., he leaned against a nearby birch tree to support him. His legs trembled as if he'd just tried to break the world record time for running a marathon.

The fatigue was always the same.

Sinking to the ground slowly, he rested his head on the birch's trunk and sighed. It was much colder than it had been in New York, and even though it was past noon, he could still see the puff of warm air when it escaped him. At least it wasn't snowing.

His daughter looked down at him and chattered.

"Laugh it up…" Percy wheezed. "Just wait 'til you get to be my age."

She crossed her arms.

"Past lives don't count," Percy said. He caught his breath. "Who knows how many times _I've_ been reincarnated. Ah, what kind of plant do you think I'd have been?"

Ranavalona scratched her chin.

"No, I wasn't the castor bean." Percy rolled his eyes at the suggestion.

Her head cocked to the side inquisitively.

"What?! Take that back or so help me..."

With a final, decisive nod, she pointed at a nearby dandelion.

Percy looked between the dandelion and his daughter apathetically. "Alright, I think we're done here. Go on, get."

When she started to lean toward him, Percy halted her with his hand. "No. We'll hold off on that for now. I need the extra pair of eyes… oh, uh… just see if you can get more clues on where Artemis is."

Exasperated, Ranavalona dipped back into the trees and disappeared.

 **«White Cut»**

From the base of the Washington Monument, gazing out over the National Mall, Percy saw them.

Zoë, Thalia, Grover, and Bianca were exiting a white van they parked on Jefferson Drive.

A block away on the same road was the Smithsonian Institution Building, which was modeled as a castle of russet-colored brick. It looked like a downsized version of Westover Hall that hadn't been designed by someone on DeviantArt with the name _xXxLorrdDarkDragonSlaughterrxXx_.

Percy ran after them. There weren't many people walking around given how cold it was and the time of day, so he wouldn't lose them in a crowd, at least. He cut across 15th Street and ran onto one of the massive gravel trails the National Mall housed.

Grover led the group right past the Smithsonian Castle and the Hirshhorn Museum, eventually making for the National Air and Space Museum.

Just as Percy crossed over the top of the 12th Street Expressway, he caught sight of two black vans park in front of the Hirshhorn. Several Men in Black-type goons stepped out of the cars, fully equipped with Bluetooth headsets and sunglasses. One person in particular, though, was more conspicuous than the rest.

Still dressed as a military officer, Dr. Thorn removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his pants. He spoke a few words to the suits and pointed at the Museum of Natural History. They made their way over, crossing the field with purposeful strides.

Percy stopped running and started to walk normally. He took the closest bench and sat down, pretending to look away from the group of men.

 _What the hell is Thorn doing here? Shit. Follow them, or follow the others? I promised Nico to keep Bianca safe... so take Thorn out and she won't be in danger._ Percy kept his eyes on the manticore and his posse. Once they were on the other side of the Mall, he stood and followed them instead of going after the questers.

Thorn walked through the Museum of Natural History's front doors, which had a sign mentioning something about a private event. Percy didn't bother to read it as he passed, entering the absolutely breathtaking marble rotunda.

From where he stood, Percy could see at least three accessible floors. There were columns at each cardinal direction, leading to different parts of the museum—a set of stairs to the higher levels, the ocean hall, and the mammal hall. White Christmas lights were strung between some of the columns and on the railings for each of the upper-level balconies. Several large evergreen wreaths decorated the walls.

At the center of the room was an information kiosk, which nobody manned. Several armed guards milled around, though, talking lowly as they patrolled the area. Percy once visited the Air and Space Museum two years back, but hadn't been able to tour the Natural History Museum.

Seeing the guards, Percy was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be in the building. Anything that Thorn had a hand in was probably bad news. Would they shoot on sight if they noticed him lurking around? He doubted it. The media would be all over that kind of story in a heartbeat.

Still, he wondered if the guards were monsters too. If they weren't human, could they also transform like Thorn? And if they were human, why were they working with the manticore? Did the Mist affect them?

From where he hid, Percy heard a few of the guards talking. Thorn and his goons were heading down into the ocean hall, to where the IMAX theater signs pointed.

"... over there. Has it been… twelve? Sick bitch..."

"... don't actually think she can… do you? Her… it's just impossible."

"I dunno… but… just don't think too hard… living the good life once this job is done."

"Right, right. Hey, have you met the General?"

"Yeah. The guy's terrifying."

"Don't I know it. Each time I'm around him, it feels like my lungs are being squeezed. I can barely breathe."

"Right? And man, when he looks at us with those eyes, I swear it's like I'm holding up a ton of rocks. My back just starts—"

Percy hadn't even realized their voices were easier to hear before the guards walked around the kiosk he hid behind.

Their eyes locked on his.

"Rana!"

His daughter was already there. The guards must have panicked because they started firing almost as soon as he spoke. Bullets thudded against Ranavalona's body, some of them actually blowing right through the weaker parts of her arms.

Roaring thunder in the rotunda deafened Percy as the gunfire persisted. He scrambled away from the action, leaping over the rounded desk and into the kiosk, covering his ears and closing his eyes. His heart had lurched into his throat.

For a few more seconds—the gunfire lasted for a few more seconds. The ear-splitting cracks echoed and shrilled in the stone enclosure. He could practically feel his brain curdling from the immense noise. Eventually, the sounds faded, and he heard metal and plastic clattering to the floor.

Taking only a second to compose himself, Percy slowly got to his knees, poking his head above the kiosk counter.

Ranavalona, body chipped and riddled with holes, stood with her arms outstretched. The guards were dead, blood pooling under their broken forms.

She had sheared a few of their limbs off. In of her hands was a leg and in the other was an arm. She dropped them.

Percy stiffened when he felt something press against the back of his head.

"Move an inch, and I'll blow your fucking brain out." A man's voice spoke to him.

His heart pounded when he realized it must have been the barrel of a gun. The pressure left and he heard the man backing up a little bit.

"Yeah, I got 'em… in the rotunda… two need EMS," the man said, probably speaking to the other guards via radio.

"Alright, kid. If that… _thing_ so much as twitches, you're gonna die. Do you understand? _I will fucking kill you_. So don't do anything you'll regret and just wait 'til the General gets here."

The phantom sensation of a gun to his head made Percy grit his teeth.

 _Oh God,_ Percy grimaced at getting caught out and mentally chastised himself. _God, God, God. Stupid! What do I do? What can I do? Can I dodge a bullet? He couldn't possibly watch Rana and I at the same time, right? How fast do bullets travel? If only I'd kept her with me instead of giving her autonomy._

Sweating, he clenched his fists. He'd been thinking for too long. If there was a time to act, it would have to be right then. Surely, if Ranavalona made a noise or did something to catch the guard's attention, Percy would be able to turn around. Maybe he could wrestle the gun out of his hands? That would take almost all of the danger away from the situation. The guards weren't monsters, now that two of them were dead on the floor, sloppily painting the marble with very red, very human blood.

Clearly, then, disarming them was the best choice. It was only those guns which set them on different levels. Without it, they would be easy to take down.

But just as Percy went to follow through with his plan, a wave of sheer panic crashed against him. He was left reeling. His daughter was suddenly, inexplicably, and thoroughly filled with dread. That had never—not once since her creation—happened. She was confident. She was unflappable. She was the reason he could feel safe.

 _So then what's with this... terror? She can see something I can't. The kiosk is in the way. So what is it? What could it possibly be?_

The sound of shoes clicking on the floor drowned out everything else. Each footfall made Ranavalona's anxiety climb. They were separated by a single counter, true, but it felt like miles now.

A lifetime later and the person walking finally appeared, his huge, muscular form rounding the front of the kiosk.

Percy knew at first glance that this was the General.

He commanded an undeniable air of charisma. His presence would cow anybody not on equal footing. This man could have stopped a charging elephant, then climbed on, tamed it, and ridden to battle in under a minute.

For some reason, Percy thought the General resembled someone. He had light coppery skin and dark eyes like hard volcanic rock. His black hair was held back by a copious amount of product, slicked and shiny under the artificial lights. Under his Brunello Cucinelli brown two-piece suit, the General was built like a statue. His shoulders looked sturdy enough to carry the world, his face brutal enough to shrivel any gaiety, and his arms thick enough to bear-hug the life out of an actual bear.

"What is this?" the General asked. His voice was deep and rumbling. It felt like the world was shaking.

Several more people followed him around the corner. There were more human thugs with guns, though a young college-aged guy with a scar on his face and sandy-blond hair walked with them.

Right behind that group slithered a handful of what Percy could only describe as snake-women. They had two snake trunks instead of legs extending from their waist and scales covered some of their exposed skin, including the head and neck.

"General! Emilio and Owen—" the man who caught Percy started to explain.

"Enough. There is no helping them now," the General said, sounding bored. He turned his attention to Percy. "Get out here, boy."

Percy stood up and slowly climbed over the counter. What other option did he have but to obey?

"Luke, do you know this one? Clearly, he is a demigod."

The scarred guy stepped closer and squinted. Percy wondered if this was the same Luke that had betrayed Thalia and the camp. He looked pale and sickly, with deep bags under his eyes. Not exactly what Percy expected, if he were honest.

"No. Must be a newer addition to camp," Luke said after a short while. Even his voice carried a hint of camouflaged weariness.

The General nodded and glanced at Ranavalona, who still stood stiff as a board. "And this creature?"

Luke shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know, General."

"Then we ask he who does," the General said, directing his stony gaze at Percy. "Well, foolish demigod? What is your answer?"

"She's… my daughter," Percy said, barely able to handle the anxious energy boiling in his gut.

"Then who are _you_?"

"General, shouldn't we get back to the raising of your army?" Luke asked impatiently.

"Patience, Luke, patience. We can always use an extra body in our grand ranks."

"But the questers could escape—"

"I've sent a playmate to keep them busy," the General said. "We will have more than enough time to complete the ritual. Hah! Who needs a sorceress when we have dragon teeth? Her warriors will never match mine. I don't know what Lord Kronos was thinking... he puts too much trust in Hecate's children." He muttered the last sentence more to himself.

 _Kronos? The Titan King. That can't be good._

The General turned back to Percy. "Will you say who you are? I believe I have something to offer you."

"Percy… Jackson."

"I see."

"General, we have a bit of information on him," Luke said. "Recently joined camp. A child of Persephone. Dryads adore him. That's really all I know."

"Of that puny goddess?" The General narrowed his eyes. "Is your source accurate and up to date?"

"This came in on Thursday. It's recent. I can't say about the accuracy."

Indignant at how his mother had been addressed, Percy took some steps back, never letting his eyes wander from the General.

"Do you wish to fight?" the General asked, cracking a thin smirk. "I see the desire in your face. It overshadowed the fear. I like that."

"Heh. Right. How would you like it if I insulted _your_ mom? Can't blame me," Percy said, taking another step away.

"Blunt. Straightforward. I like that you speak honestly. I'll ask again: do you wish to fight?"

"That really isn't what I came here for."

The General laughed a booming laugh. "You had no idea what you were walking into. Ah, but if it isn't a fight, then perhaps I can convince you to hear what I have to say."

"Is this the stereotypical villain monologue? Weird, I'd never pictured myself sitting through one of these in real life." Percy turned his head and muttered to himself. "It almost feels like I'm in some kind of story."

"Is that how you see us? As villains?" the General chuckled. "Very well, let that be your first impression. And as much as I'd like to loosen my muscles by ripping you apart, I'd be remiss to not do my duties as senior commander of our army.

"So then, I would extend a hand to you, Percy Jackson, son of Persephone. We have many half-bloods already in our swelling ranks. Each month we add more because they see a better life under Titan guidance than Olympian tyranny."

Percy considered it for a second. "Thanks, but I'm good. Can we part ways with a sturdy handshake or am I asking for too much?"

"Ah, such a waste," the General said. "What have the gods done to gain your allegiance? Why do you fight for them?"

"Huh? I—uh—I don't fight for them. And they don't have any allegiance of mine." Percy rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"If that's the case, why refuse?"

"Because I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Uh… no offense… actually, wait, what's your name? All this time I've been calling you 'the General' in my head. It's kinda freaking me out."

The General frowned. "Then what do you fight for? What reason do you have? Surely you know refusing me sentences you to death."

Percy, feeling his daughter was starting to reach her limit of keeping a corporeal form, reluctantly dismissed her. When she dissipated into chips of wood, everybody except the General tensed and raised their weapons. The mountain of muscle jerked his head, calming the crowd of underlings.

"I don't need a reason, right? I'm just doing what I think is best," Percy said, hoping he wouldn't be shot in the back.

The man undid two buttons on his dress-shirt. "With that kind of backbone and resolve, you may have made for a fine soldier in Lord Kronos' personal guard. But alas, you stand with the enemy. Pity." He fiddled with his cuffs and shook his head. "You asked me my name, so I shall grant it to you."

He leaned forward, his leather shoes digging into the marble. Then, like a cannonball, he shot forward.

Percy felt and heard the bones in his right arm break under the General's fist. He was lifted clean off his feet and launched into the nearest column, which had once been twenty feet away. The air stolen from his lungs, all Percy could do was gasp in a heap on the ground. He looked at the lumbering giant who walked toward him steadily.

"I am Atlas, the Titan of Endurance, he who held the entire weight of the sky for many millennia. You'll forgive me if I can't kill you as quickly as you might like. I find my movements are dulled and lethargic from my punishment."

Though he tried to stand in time, Percy couldn't escape. Atlas buried his foot in Percy's chest, cracking ribs indiscriminately.

"Is this the best you can do, fragile mortal?" Atlas asked. "Come, rise, show me the extent of your defiance! Die like a warrior!"

Percy rolled away from the column and got to his feet. There was some dull throbbing throughout his body, but it didn't hurt enough to debilitate him. His right arm was slightly crooked, broken from the forearm. It was hard to tell the extent of his injury since he was still wearing a jacket.

"That's it! It's in your eyes! This is the price of your pride!"

The room echoed Atlas' last statement. Most of the guards, be they human or otherwise, retreated to the far edges, well away from their general.

"Is that all you've got?" Percy asked. "C'mon, you can do better than that."

"I'll ask once more," Atlas said, a certain air of nonchalance to his tone. "Will you join? What do you wish for? Power? Money? Justice? Fairness? We can give you all of those."

"I don't need the first two and I don't think you can give me the last two. Or maybe you can." Percy shrugged. "Let's just keep fighting. I don't see myself caving."

Atlas bellowed with uproarious laughter. The reverberations shook the museum. "Eager to meet your stepfather so much? Very well, I shall send you to him."

With that, he charged, just a bit slower this time than before. The Titan's steps still bounded a yard each, but none of them had the same potency as his first assault.

Percy could see when Atlas swung his arm around for a right cross.

"Rana!"

His daughter, although in desperate need of recharging, came at his call. They both ducked under the Titan's fist and rolled closer to his gut. Percy ripped off her left arm, letting the vines wriggle under his flesh. Ranavalona had driven her other hand deep into Atlas' abdomen, just under his ribs, up at an angle that would run right through his heart.

The silence which followed could only be described as palpable. It hung heavy, everybody too stunned at the turn of events.

Even Percy was left at a loss. Sure, this was more than he could have hoped for, but that didn't mitigate the surprise at getting such a solid hit on a Titan.

 _Did... did I just win? Did I really just... win?_ Percy blinked.

Ranavalona pulled her hand from Atlas' body, letting gold blood gush from the hole, where it fell to stain the floor beneath their feet.

Percy finished reacquainting with Ranavalona's limb, coalescing more of himself than he had last night. As he'd expected, though, with his recollection came a sudden onset of cresting pain. It shot into his system like a jolt of lightning, forcing a croak from him, but soon thrummed away to a more manageable plateau.

He caught his breath and scanned the rotunda. None of the guards were aiming at him. None of the monsters made for revenge. Luke, too, was wide-eyed and gaping.

Nodding at his daughter, Percy sent his gratitude. "Good job, Rana. You can—"

The sight of her body being blown apart stopped him cold. Atlas' fist had smashed into her shoulder and strewn wood everywhere. She was done for.

Percy wasn't fast enough to escape when Atlas whipped around. He was kicked over the kiosk, body wracked by needles when the foot planted itself in his gut. Gravity pulled him down again, sending him tumbling across the stone floor.

"You caught me by surprise, cretin," Atlas growled. "But do you think my title as Titan of Endurance was bestowed upon me for nothing?!"

The ground was cold and hard where Percy lay. From his position, he saw the gleaming directional lights attached to the ceiling. They glared down at him like stars cutting through the dark.

Sitting up was difficult. The muscles he trained so often were failing him.

Standing brought the world to tilt on an incorrect axis. North and south felt like east and west.

His knees buckled a few times when they straightened, but never fully collapsed under his weight. Gravity was pulling down harder, for some reason.

When his eyes finally drifted up to become level, Atlas was there, statuesque, immovable and unstoppable, far too close for comfort. The brown suit had been stained a shiny gold from his sternum down. Up close, Percy saw a single accessory that clashed with the otherwise chic outfit: a rustic wood carving of a cloud, looped with a string and hung around the Titan's neck.

"Fool," Atlas ground out. "You have no hope of winning. The Titans are not to be trifled with! Let this be a short-lived lesson. There is no escape, no victory; nothing that you might call salvation. Prepare to die."

Percy looked at the wreaths hanging a story above him. They were all real, that much he'd noticed as soon as he walked in the museum. And now that he'd collected a piece once granted his daughter—now that he was just a little more whole and him—those wreaths _would_ be his salvation.

Stretching to reach them, his call made each of the evergreen decorations shiver. Many of them were reaching the end of their lives, the individual pieces having been cut away from a larger supporting body. They weren't supplied with water or anything which would maintain them. Each took their final role with zeal.

Plants were his. They lived for him. They would die for him. They would change for him. Percy repurposed a single wreath, the one that was closest to him, and twisted its physiology to suit his needs.

As soon as Atlas made his first lumbering step forward, each wreath tore itself apart, showering pine needles and broken twigs from the floor above.

Percy saw the slightest hint of a flinch grace Atlas' stony features and made a mad dash for the only modified wreath. He felt a gust of wind as he ran. From the corner of his eye, a leg raced to crush his skull. Given his options, all he could rightfully do was dodge. Blocking any of Atlas' attacks would be damning.

So he tucked and rolled with clenched teeth. Each time his broken arm slapped against the ground, his molars came under more pressure. And although he wanted to just stay on the down indefinitely, he clambered to his feet and kept his forward momentum.

Something bright orange caught his attention among the plants' debris. His good hand scraped against the ground when he reached for it.

Just before he could wrap his fingers around the wreath-born fruits, something rammed into him from behind, hitting his lower ribs. Spears of agony ripped into his side as he was thrown way off course. He bounced and slid across the room like a ragdoll, the world through his eyes little more than a blur of light and shapes.

It was only when he crashed through glass that he felt his body slowing down.

Then, in the next instant, he was falling.

He landed hard on his front—his face, hands, and collarbone scraped against rough, cool cement.

For several long, egregiously stretched seconds, Percy didn't do anything except breath.

Each inhalation came shallow, because taking in too much air at once brought fire to his chest and spine and brain. The burning reminded him of severe indigestion, almost like the worst case of acid reflux he could have after eating seventy extra-spicy Buffalo wings.

Percy shivered. He struggled to get up, forgetting that one of his arms was broken and useless in supporting his torso's weight. Warm blood smeared part of his face. It trickled down from his forehead, forcing him to close his left eye.

Looking back at the museum, he noticed that he wasn't even on the tiered stairs leading up to the front doors. Instead, he was on the sidewalk. Somehow, he'd ended up going from inside the rotunda, to the spot he now kneeled at. That was at least forty yards. Maybe more, actually.

Hanging from between sets of massive Corinthian columns were banners that flapped in the wind, announcing the attractions on offer. Under one of these waving signs, from the top of the stairs, Atlas looked down at Percy, his expression a mute form of mirth.

They stared at each other for an eternity. The few people who were walking by didn't pay either of them any mind. Most gave Percy a wide berth, passing without looking at him.

Percy planted one foot on the sidewalk, using it to hoist his weight so he could stand.

Atlas smirked at the action. He looked as if he were ready to make his way down the steps, but thought better of it. With a final, searching glance, Atlas turned away, sauntering back into the museum, his head held high and his back ramrod straight.

 _I can't believe I'm alive_ , Percy thought. After he'd felt the initial strength behind Atlas' strikes, there was no way he planned on fighting head-on. His options, then, were between playing dirty or just running. Looking back, he was glad the plan with the wreaths had failed. It was just plain luck he'd been walloped in just the right spot to throw him out of the building. _I really shouldn't have gone in without thinking._

Tearing his eyes off the broken entrance, Percy ran across the National Mall, hoping to find the questing party still in the National Air and Space Museum. They needed to know.

The first several steps he took were fine. Once he was on the gravel trails, though, Percy noticed his breathing had become labored. A minute later, and he was clearing his throat of the blood that was starting to bubble up.

 _A lung?_ He questioned the symptoms, spitting out some of his bloody saliva. He pressed onward, steps growing more feverish. _I need ambrosia. They've gotta have some with them, right? Aw, man, if they don't…_

Traveling across the Mall felt like it took hours. He wasn't in much pain—he would say it was moderate discomfort—but not knowing the extent of his injuries put a damper on his mood. After all, he didn't want to just drop dead. Someone would have to go through all his worldly possessions, and then, they would find it.

 _My stash of "Bubbly Bespectacled Beauties". No way. I still need to buy Volume 7: "Brusque Bookworms"._

Percy clenched his fist. The release was set for February, featuring some of his favorite models and promising several new additions to the collection.

He looked both ways before crossing Jefferson Drive. The van Zoë had driven was still parked, which made him sigh in relief. As he got closer to the Hirshhorn, a building shaped like a low disk and made of gray concrete, Percy saw several people running out of the National Air and Space Museum.

Still short of breath, he trudged up to the entrance, pulling some branches off a nearby bush. Atlas had said something about sending a "playmate", but Percy was sure he wouldn't find everyone sitting down doing finger paintings. The branches trailed up his arm, wrapping around where it had been broken. Shortly, he'd created a splint to set the bone and keep it from flopping around or something equally as unsightly.

It was only when he opened the dark glass doors that he heard a rumbling roar. He hoped Bianca was still safe.

Percy breathed a laugh through his nose.

 _The things I do for love._

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 **A/N: Who possibly could have written this mysterious note? Dun, dun, dun! As you might have noticed, dear readers, Captain Planet vs. Muscle Man wasn't actually a fight. It was just Percy getting absolutely bodied by a very sore, very generous Atlas.**

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 _ **Review Response:**_

 **Superkami God- His is the high score/Though he does love his daughter/Snow brings gaming days**


	7. Soundtrack of yet Another Teen Movie

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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7\. Soundtrack of yet Another Teen Movie

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The metal detectors didn't make a peep when he passed them. People were running around in a confused panic, directionless. The security guards who usually checked guests at the entrance were busy looking around, shouting nonsensical, contradictory orders to each other with in voices. It was a scene straight from a disaster movie, Percy would say.

The air carried a jumbled cadence of shrieks from some ungodly instrument. When the noise hit his ears, it nearly bowled him over. In the span of a second, he'd forgotten what he came to do, discovered the meaning of life, and invented the perfect recipe for sardine and sour cream risotto. Then, the next second brought clarity back to his mind.

 _Sardine and sour cream risotto? Sounds like heresy. I bet Bianca would strangle me for even suggesting it._

Percy blinked at the odd derailment of his focus. His eyes stopped around the room, sharp, so as to cut through the next bout of mish-mashed thoughts.

To his left were a pair of upright rockets, one maybe twenty feet tall and the other almost double that height. Strung up from the ceiling were small crafts of all kinds: an old biplane, a couple of World War II-era fighters, and several sleeker prototype designs of jets. Closer to his right was a lunar landing module, fixed so that a plaster astronaut was climbing up its stairs.

Unlike the National Museum of Natural History, these floors were covered by gray carpet, and the walls looked to be metallic. The immediate entrance area was larger than the other museum's rotunda, regarding width and length. This building, however, only had two floors.

Another deep roar shook Percy's organs. He looked at the upper-level and saw Bianca leaping from the railing onto the biplane's wing. She landed gracefully. Even from a distance, Percy swore he saw a faint silvery glow coming from her body, bathing her in mystic moonlight. He noted the determination on her face, the way her movements seemed to come naturally as she crossed the biplane, and the few strands of her braided hair falling on her forehead.

Admire her as he might, something else caught his eye. It jumped onto the plane as well, bringing the whole craft to shake and teeter from side to side.

 _I love you, Mufasa, but you can't be doing that, c'mon,_ Percy took a nervous step away as he heard groaning emanate from the strings. He licked his lips at seeing the massive lion. It was the size of a pickup truck and had fur that shined under the artificial lights.

A few arrows hit the lion's side. Percy watched with fascination as they bounced off, falling to the ground without so much as making the monster flinch. Zoë was on the second floor, leaning over the railing with her bow. A few more arrows were sent flying, all amounting to getting the lion's attention for a split second.

Bianca made the most of the distraction. She turned and ran, jumping from the biplane onto a nearby fighter. The lion snarled and gave chase, but Bianca was already off the plane and soaring toward a suspended satellite.

The speed at which she was moving, combined with her weight, caused some thinner cables on the satellite to snap. Her fingers held fast as the display swung like a pendulum. It hit the wall hard enough to shake Bianca loose. She fell onto the lunar module, no doubt cracking a few of her ribs in the process when she bounced off the angled side—her landing on the ground level probably broke a few more bones.

Percy ran to her. Somehow, she was getting to her feet. He saw her parka had caught and torn on some protruding part of the module.

"Bianca!"

"Percy, move!"

He felt a chill of dread sink into his spine and turned. The lion was flying toward him, gleaming silver teeth complimenting its flowing mane. Both of its paws were outstretched, the sharp claws on each digit fully extended to latch onto Percy's skin. He barely had time to shield his face with both arms when something knocked him to the ground.

Ribs pounding with solid pain, he gasped as a weight settled atop his body. His eyes cracked open to find Bianca looking down at him.

"T-thanks," Percy mumbled. He felt blood in his throat again and swallowed thickly.

"Sure… no problem." Bianca rolled off of him and splayed herself on the carpet, wheezing. "I'm just gonna take a nap. Wake me up when you win, okay?"

Percy shot to his feet. He looked at the lion's lowered form. It had flown above Bianca and him, but now it prepared for another attack, sticking close to the ground. He'd seen enough safari videos to know what was coming next.

It bounded at him, the muscles in its legs visibly contracting and expanding under skin and fur. The lion opened its mouth wide to take a chunk of Percy's face. They were only a foot apart when Percy released the splint from his arm. Every branch shot out and, with newly sharpened tips, stabbed the lion wherever they could reach.

But as pressure was applied, all of them snapped. None broke through the fur. His attack had only pushed the beast away from him by a scant margin. Percy hadn't been sure before, but now he was sure this was the Nemean Lion.

The branches retracted and wrapped around each other in his hand. They made a club at his command, strong and sturdy enough to hopefully keep the monster at bay while Percy thought of a plan.

 _The mouth_. He slapped the Nemean Lion's probing paws away with his club. The two circled each other. _Its mouth and eyes can't be invulnerable either, right? Or the inside of its ears. Or its nose. Okay, we've got options._

Thinking hard, he barely caught sight of Zoë pulling Bianca away. He saw Thalia and Grover coming down the escalator.

"Wait until it opens its mouth!" Percy called to them, stopping to cough. The taste of iron lingered on his tongue. He looked at Zoë, who nodded, her mouth and eyes set with grim fatigue. "I'm counting on you."

The lassitude he'd seen reminded him of how tired he felt. He hadn't used his power this much for a long, long time. The last must have been when he created Ranavalona, but that wasn't the same as this. All those years ago, before she came into being, he was much stronger. Now, he relied on her for more.

 _And here I told that little fire-girl I was trying to put more effort into things_.

Percy reworked the physiology of his club. Since the branches were disconnected from the ground and any outside source of nature, this would be the last he could do before they died. Small butterwort plants grew from the club, immediately beginning their secretions.

The monster, most likely unaware of how dangerous enough modified mucilage could be, tried to get closer again. Swinging the club around, Percy felt claws rake against his thigh at the same time he struck the Nemean Lion's nose.

Both recoiled at the simultaneous impact, stumbling away from the other. Fire tore at Percy's left side as if a hundred heated coals had been placed on his skin.

The Nemean Lion waddled back while pawing at its nose. The monster shook its head vigorously, swiping at both of its nostrils, continuing to back away from Percy and Thalia, who had stepped forward with her shield at the ready.

"What did you do to it?" Thalia asked, not sparing Percy a glance.

"Imagine someone rubbing a handful of Krazy Glue over and in your nose," said Percy, losing the battle to hold himself upright. His chest felt tight, his head light. He used the club as a cane, catching the weight of his left side when that leg started to collapse. "Now it has no choice but to breathe through its mouth… I hope."

"Reassuring."

"If it didn't work I'm gonna go sit this one out. I've had a hell of a day."

"Where's your daughter?"

"Germinating." He felt like each breath gave him just barely enough air to keep conscious.

"She's German?"

Percy laughed through his nose. "Imagine if she were built like a Mercedes. You know the… the Germans always make good stuff."

"Do they really?"

"That's what… people tend to say. I dunno. One of my teachers… said it… was all the manufacturing companies' propaganda. But he's a conspiracy theorist anyway."

"Are you okay? You're chopping your sentences."

"If I pass out, could you make sure I don't get eaten?"

As they spoke back and forth, the Nemean Lion finally took a breath from its mouth. It roared but was silenced when two arrows hit their mark inside its mouth. The monster gagged, shuddered, then toppled over, landing with a meaty _thud_ on the ground.

Around the museum, people still ran in circles. The guards were dancing by the metal detectors, most of them doing The Worm while a few went with the classic Robot.

Zoë and Bianca approached, their bows out, scanning the museum for more threats. Grover was playing away on his pipes, looking the worse for wear without a scratch on him.

"Just like Hercules," Thalia muttered.

Percy glanced at the Nemean Lion's carcass. All that remained was a mass of stretched, glittering fur. It even had the mane attached, though stopped short of having paws.

"Reminds me of the Golden Fleece," said Percy. He'd fought monsters in the forest for training before—hellhounds mostly, though he was once attacked by a stray spirit of manslaughter after venturing too far—but hadn't seen something left behind after they died.

"You should take it." Thalia put her equipment away, staring at the fur with a distant expression. "The spoils of war should go to the victor of any battle."

"Indeed." Zoë came up behind them. She looked at Percy with the corner of her eye. Even though the crown of her head only came to his hairline, he thought she was staring down at him. "Thou did well. Take it, and let us be off before mortal law enforcement arrives."

Percy leaned down to grab the pelt and almost fell face-first into the carpet. Zoë pulled him back to stand.

"By the gods!" She was staring at his bloodied leg. "Speak when thou are injured, boy!"

"Holy crap, Percy," Bianca covered her mouth.

"Oh! Right, I almost forgot to ask. You wouldn't happen to have any ambrosia or nectar, would you? The General gave me a good walloping."

 **«White Cut»**

Percy rested his head, taking another sip of nectar from the thermos Grover had given him. The flavor was different from ambrosia, as instead of carne asada and ginger ale, nectar tasted distinctly of cioppino. And of course, it wasn't just run-of-the-mill cioppino. This was some of the best he'd ever had.

"How are you feeling?" Thalia asked, taking the nectar from him.

"Warm."

"Normal side-effect. If you start feeling a bit hot under the collar, you know it's time to stop. Too much nectar or ambrosia and you'll literally burn up."

Percy hummed. The van turned and pulled onto I-66 heading west, shifting him in his seat. They crossed the Potomac via the Theodore Roosevelt bridge. Clouds like thick blankets covered the sky, so even less sunlight made its way through, obscuring D.C. in a dreary gray atmosphere.

"Thou mentioned the General." Zoë's knuckles were white as she clutched the wheel. Her shoulders had tensed, and she stared straight ahead at the road when addressing him.

"Yeah. Met him in the Museum of Natural History," Percy replied after a short breath.

Bianca raised her eyebrows and, after shooting her lieutenant a furtive glance, asked, "Who is he?"

"Atlas."

"The Titan?!" Grover pulled his curly hair, revealing a pair of horns, and gave Percy an alarmed bleat.

Thalia sank further into herself. "No way."

Bianca let out a long whistle. "The one who held up the sky?"

Percy nodded, his face solemn. "That one."

"What…" Zoë paused in her words, momentarily lost for what she would ask. Her tone was thick with emotion too difficult for Percy to discern. "What did he look like?"

"Tall. Muscular. Slicked back black hair and these cold, black eyes. He's like a statue that started walking, talking, and punching things. He kinda reminds me of… " Percy rubbed his arm, which had stopped its minor ache, and stared at the back of Zoë's seat. "He reminds me of someone I know."

"What happened?" Grover asked. "I mean, you fought him, or…?"

"He beat me to a pulp, dude. Like, no joke, I didn't stand a chance against him," said Percy. "He's one tough guy."

And that was the truth, without exaggeration. He doubted it would have mattered if they'd been out in the open, with dirt beneath their feet. Atlas probably still would have crushed him. Percy, in fact, was almost sure that Atlas wasn't even trying. The first strike, maybe, but after that? No.

Percy could tell that Grover and Thalia wanted more details—Bianca too, if her body language was anything to go by. The van suddenly felt small with their expectancy. Doing his best to ignore the discomfort, Percy recounted how he'd pursued Thorn into the National Museum of Natural History and his subsequent meeting with the General.

"A Titan…" Grover started chewing on his shirt. "Is he the one who chained Artemis?"

"Can we win against someone like that?" Thalia asked. "Chiron told me Atlas was the Titan Lord's right-hand-man. Even though he is a second-generation Titan, most of the gods see him as one of the strongest."

"Ain't that the truth," Percy said, rubbing his temples. "I can't fight him. Not head-to-head. I can't match that raw, physical strength."

They sat in silence after that. Percy checked his wounds. The gashes on his hip were scabbing over, two great lines of reddish-brown tissue streaking the affected area, like huge strips of beef jerky. His arm didn't hurt, but he couldn't quite clench his fist yet, which told him it wasn't fully healed.

He looked at the Nemean Lion's pelt, which rested on his lap. It had changed into the form of a golden-brown overcoat that _really_ clashed with Percy's faded gray jeans, his cream-colored Ralph Lauren sneakers, and the standard orange camp T-shirt. Overcoats were just so hard to match with casual clothing.

Suddenly, Grover leaned closer to his window and said, "Is it just me, or is that helicopter gunship heading right for us?"

"Can't even get five minutes to critique my own wardrobe!" Percy sighed, staring at the gunship as it pitched toward them. "Oh, it definitely sees us. Those guys must be hawks or something."

"Or they just have binoculars and know what kind of car we're driving," Thalia suggested. "Either way, we've gotta ditch the van."

Zoë yanked on the wheel and cut through traffic, exiting on the next off-ramp, merging onto Arlington Boulevard. Percy saw the monument dedicated to World War II marines. As they continued off Arlington, Bianca snapped her fingers and pointed at a tall building of brownstone labeled ROSSLYN CENTER.

"There, go there!" she said, taking a nervous gulp when she saw the helicopter.

"But we can't park—"

"Trust me on this," Bianca unbuckled her seatbelt.

Zoë pulled up to the curb and shut the engine off. Percy threw the overcoat on and followed Thalia out. Bianca led them around back of the Rosslyn Center.

The nearby office buildings rose tall enough so the helicopter was out of sight. A sprinkle of snow fell on the city. Percy was pretty sure they weren't in D.C. anymore, but rather in Virginia.

They cut through an old parking lot, beelining for a set of descending stairs with glass railing around them.

"Subway," Grover said. "Good thinking. They can't follow us underground."

Percy pulled his wallet out. "Why do all roads lead underground? You're tearing me apart, Bianca."

"How do these guys have a gunship in the first place?" Thalia asked while they went down into the station.

"PMC?"

"Isn't that some kind of foot-fungus?" Bianca asked.

Percy chuckled. "Private military contractor. Close enough."

"I got it totally wrong!"

"No, no, you were on the right track. You put your best foot forward, at least!"

"Are you making fun of me?"

"I guess I should just put my foot in my mouth at this point."

Thalia and Grover covered their snickering with fake coughs. Zoë fought back a smile that came close to breaking her stoic expression, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

Bianca gave Percy a light shove with her shoulder, smirking when he stumbled down the steps. "At least you're willing to pay for train tickets, Mr. Oil Tycoon."

"I'm just a walking, talking ATM for you guys, aren't I?"

Thalia nodded thoughtfully, hand on her chin. "That's a very apt description, yeah."

Percy sobbed.

 **«White Cut»**

Somehow, the helicopter had found them during their initial ride. When the train stopped at another next station, they'd all piled out and gotten onto a different line, heading anywhere but toward the enemy. They didn't care about direction. All that mattered was getting away.

Percy, in particular, wasn't eager to meet with Atlas again so soon. He didn't know if the General was onboard the gunship, but that wouldn't stop him from worrying. In a world where Greek mythology was real, anything seemed possible.

 _And so here we are… sharing a trashcan fire with poor ol' Toothless Joe._

Bianca shivered next to him, her parka having been ruined in their fight with the Nemean Lion. She'd regretfully left it behind in a trash bin. Now she was half-freezing in some random industrial rail yard full of dilapidated trains and scrap metal.

"I'm s-so hungry. And c-cold. Think I could f-find a deer to catch a-around here?" Bianca asked, shivering by the fire.

"Tetanus."

"What?"

Percy fiddled with his coat's buttons. "The only thing you'll catch in this place is tetanus."

"G-great."

"Here." Percy shrugged the overcoat off and threw it to Bianca.

The disguised pelt hit her straight in the face, making her squeak as she clawed at the thick material. She finally got it out of her eyes and held it at arm's length, giving Percy a perplexed stare.

"What a-are you doing?" she asked.

Percy smiled. "You looked a bit cold there, B. Take it."

"I… I can't take this!" Bianca said. She shoved the coat back into his hands. "It's y-your spoil of w-war."

"Didn't you and Zoë kill the Nemean Lion? I just gave you the opportunity. You guys put in the legwork."

"Wrong." Zoë's reply was blunt. Her eyes slid over to the homeless guy, who was humming some distance away from them. "Had it not been for thine actions, the lion wouldn't have opened its mouth. The spoil rightfully belongs to thee, in my opinion."

"Are we really gonna argue this of all things?"

"There is nothing to argue. It is thine."

"Jeez. Fine, I deserve the pelt. So as the owner, I'm letting Bianca borrow it for some time. How's that?" He held the garment out for Bianca to take.

"What if I-I don't want it?" Bianca raised a challenging eyebrow at him, but her eyes stared longingly at the promise of warmth.

"You'd hurt my feelings. I'm a very sensitive soul."

She snickered and leaned forward. "And here I thought y-you were a knight in shining armor."

"Well, I'm tough on the outside but soft and squishy on the inside. Like a York peppermint patty."

"Or a snail?"

Percy held a hand over his heart. "You're really aiming to kill, huh?"

"N-Now that I think about it, a c-crab wouldn't be too far off from perfectly describing you." Bianca rolled the end of her braided hair between two fingers.

"I'm feeling a little _crabby_ now that you mention it. Yo, B, if I baked you a cake would you call it a _crab cake_?"

Bianca grinned and shook her head. "That was ba-a-ad."

Percy lifted one shoulder. "About one-third of my humor is awkward, forced situational puns. You'll learn."

"I don't think I want to learn."

"Too bad. I'll teach you whether you like it or not. You should be grateful. Free education. In a couple years, you'll have a degree in Percy's Patented Puns. Patent pending."

"Don't advertise s-something you don't actually have."

Toothless Joe interrupted their conversation with a hearty laugh. "Ah, I remember when I was your age. The titillating banter, those coy glances… good times."

Percy ducked his head when all eyes went to him and Bianca, who'd moved to stand closer. His cheeks and ears burned at seeing the disapproving stare Zoë gave him.

"Again with the flirting," Zoë muttered.

"I wasn't flirting. It's just normal, _non-titillating_ banter," Percy defended, giving the homeless guy a meaningful look.

Bianca nodded along. "Yeah. I don't think Percy has a romantic bone in his body."

Percy coughed ruefully. "Alright, B, I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that right to my face. I've been on plenty of successful dates. I can give you photo evidence. Wait, no I can't, I broke my other phone." He clicked his tongue. "You'll just have to take my word for it then."

"Uh-huh. Okay."

"And who said anything about coy glances?" Percy asked the man.

"I did!" Toothless Joe stated proudly. "Now why are you kids all the way out here, middle of nowhere, dead-end junction, end of the line, all by your lonesomes and in the snow?"

"West," Zoë said. "We must go west. To California. San Francisco."

"Visiting family?" the man asked. His wrinkled eyes bore into Zoë's own. "Or just sightseeing?"

An unsettling silence followed his questions. Only the flickering flames and the falling snow seemed to move.

"Well it doesn't matter, does it? Lucky for you guys, there's a train heading west right over there."

They all followed his finger. Sitting on the railway, untouched by snow, frost, or rust, was an autorack—the kind of train used to transport cars and trucks over long distances. A flexible steel curtain fell over the sides with the name SUN WEST LINE painted on.

Grover blinked. "What a coincidence. Wait, where'd the guy go?"

Percy turned around and found Toothless Joe was gone, having taken the fire, leaving them no choice but to climb aboard the train.

 **«White Cut»**

With so many luxury cars, Percy was having trouble choosing just one to hang out in. Grover was pretending to be the next Kurt Busch behind the wheel of a green Lamborghini. Zoë and Bianca took a black Lexus LS on the second level, claiming it for the Hunters in Artemis' honor, probably. Thalia was reclined in the driver's seat of a Mercedes SLK, strumming an air-guitar to whatever song she'd picked up.

The train rolled along, and the sound of its metal wheels on metal lines was clearly discernible. Everyone else had gotten in a car because of the noise and their weariness. Initially, Percy had wanted to do the same. But after a minute of intense thought, he'd lost the _clack-clack-clacking_ in his ears.

Percy clambered up the small utility ladder, carefully that no jolt from the train would knock him down. Once up to the third level he perused the selection there.

A part of him would have liked to sit with someone.

His daughter, who was back on standby, accosted him.

"You're right. The little fire-girl was right, too. I promised Nico to keep Bianca safe, and forced her to save me." Percy closed his eyes. "I told Chiron nothing bad would happen to Annabeth or Thalia, and one of them was yanked off a cliff."

He thinned his lips. "What should I do? What should I do, Mom? After all these years, after everything I've done… is it really fine for me to go back?"

An unexpected voice called to him. "Hey."

Percy lifted his head. Bianca was standing by an Infiniti Q60, both hands in the pockets of the overcoat she'd finally accepted. It was a bit too big on her, but she seemed cozy enough.

"How's it hanging, B? You look a lot warmer." Percy leaned on the hood of an SUV and smiled.

Bianca nodded, her chin almost buried in the coat's coarse material. "Pretty toasty. It got too warm in the car with Zoë, though." She took the spot next to him.

They stood there for some time, staring at the curtain of metal that separated them from the outside world. Inside the autorack was somewhat dark, with slats of light barely coming through the curtain.

Occasionally, the train would jostle them around, enough so that Bianca ended up pressing her shoulder to Percy's upper arm. Through their layers of clothing, she felt cold.

For a moment, daggers of ice and flurries of snow reached into his flesh and froze the tissue. It stung and gripped him, then vanished as quickly as it had come.

All Percy was left with was Bianca's shoulder digging into his triceps. With the chill gone, he felt warmth creep into his stomach. Something there whiffled, like a plane in a tailspin suddenly jerking up, sending quivers to the tips of his fingers.

"Hey, Percy."

He looked at Bianca expectantly. She wasn't meeting his eye. Instead, she kept her gaze straight ahead, staring at that same steel curtain. The train's rattling suddenly came back in full force, his ears straining to hear something that hadn't yet been said.

Taking care, he nudged her with his elbow, hoping she would continue speaking. Bianca looked at him with a soft smile, and her tongue flit across her lips to keep them wet.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?"

Percy rolled his eyes. "No. I don't think you're a bad person. Why'd'you ask?"

"Because it—it feels like I'm—a bad person."

"But why?" Though he felt he knew the answer, a part of him wanted to hear her say it aloud.

"You know."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Her voice came forceful but pained. "Am I a bad person for leaving him?"

The light seemed to dim even further, shadows closing the gaps where it spilled through, like fingers plugging leaking holes. The autorack dropped a few degrees in temperature.

Percy pulled away from Bianca, and she gave him a look of unabashed hurt when he left her side.

"I… I don't…" He felt the cold nip at his skin, but the spikes driven in by Bianca's face forced shame onto his heart. Closing his eyes, he took a breath to steady himself.

When he opened them again, Bianca was gone.

 **«White Cut»**

Percy knocked on the Lexus' tinted window. He waited for a few seconds. Eventually, Zoë's head poked out. Her dark eyes took him in, and he felt more self-conscious under her scrutiny than Annabeth's or the General's.

"Yes?" she asked. Her tone wasn't as steely as it had been before. In fact, he might call it pleasant.

"Oh, um," Percy sighed and fidgeted. "Is Bianca in there?"

Zoë shook her head. "She isn't. Was she not going to return the pelt to thee?"

He swallowed. "Oh, we never got to that point. She, uh, left and… I just want to talk to her."

"As I've said, she isn't here." Zoë studied him. "Come in, I'll unlock the door."

Percy wanted to leave, but a faint clicking sound later and Zoë was pushing the passenger side door open for him. Sighing, he walked around the front of the car and sat down on the stitched leather seat.

"So what did thou do to upset her?"

Percy chuckled awkwardly. "Why are you assuming I did something wrong?"

Zoë lifted one of her delicate eyebrows. "I don't believe Bianca would have left in the middle of a discussion unless thou offended her in some way. She doesn't strike me as that kind of person. And when it comes to thee—even less so."

"When it comes to… me?"

"Jackson… no, never mind. This isn't my place."

"You aren't saying—"

"I am not saying anything, thou are correct. Let us leave it as such and discuss something else."

Percy nodded slowly. He'd let the subject drop because he wasn't sure how to handle it. "So, California, huh? Why there?"

Zoë blinked. "We are going to the Mountain of Despair. That is where Lady Artemis is being held."

"Sounds like you've been to Mount Doom before."

"I have, and I don't prefer it over visiting the beaches of southern California."

"Where _haven't_ you been? It sounds like Artemis takes you everywhere."

"I've wanted to visit Southeast Asia for some time now. I've traveled throughout most of Europe, Northern Africa, Anatolia, and the United States."

"Wow, being a Hunter sounds like fun."

"It is. The family is one we choose, and though it can be dysfunctional at times, for the most part, we love each other. We go on long journeys, laugh, live, enjoy our immortality, and perform a service for the whole of humanity all at once. What else could one ask for?"

"Dental, home, auto, and life insurance? If you laugh so much I'd think you would have great coverage."

Zoë's passive mien cracked when her face split into a curbed grin. She coughed a laugh into her elbow and looked at him openly. Her broad smile had dimmed to just slight a slight upturning of her mouth.

"Perhaps I'll suggest that to Lady Artemis. If we free her."

"When we free her," Percy quickly corrected, almost fumbling over his tongue.

"Pardon?"

" _When_ we free her," he repeated more deliberately. "She'll be fine."

Zoë didn't reply immediately. She kept her eyes on him, reaching up and clicking on the overhead light. A warm yellow glow illuminated the car. Percy found himself comparing Zoë's features to those of Atlas. Their complexions were almost exactly the same. From their eyes to their nose to their jaws, he found similarities everywhere.

"Thine confidence is appreciated," Zoë finally said, turning the light off. "May I ask where it comes from? I first assumed it was arrogance, however, I find myself doubting it now."

"I'm not sure, actually."

"Do you believe you can defeat the General should you reencounter him?"

Percy shook his head lightly. "No, I don't. Maybe… _maybe_ if we were in a forest or garden. Even then, though, I'm not so sure. Rana speared his heart. His heart, Zoë. I know she did. But he annihilated her ten seconds later."

"He isn't called the Titan of Endurance for no reason. Pain is something he comprehends but can push aside. As long as his body remains unbroken, he will continue forward. A juggernaut, some might call him." Zoë ran her fingers over the center console, wiping imaginary dust from the leather trim.

"That was more than just pain. It was his heart," Percy insisted.

"How can we hope to understand immortal beings such as Titans? I do not know the full extent of his abilities. As I understand, he has never told anybody, not even his king."

"Too bad. Think Kronos would have been willing to share Atlas' weakness?"

"I doubt it, sincerely."

Percy snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Rats."

They sat in awkward silence.

"So," Percy started, "how long have you been a Hunter?"

Zoë thought, then said, "Thousands of years. One loses track of decades, and even centuries, after the first millennium passes."

"Holy crab—er, crap—you're a lot older than I thought. A lot older than you look, too." He shook his head. "And some people say time tells no lies."

"Who said that?"

"Praying Mantis."

"A praying mantis did? Really?" Zoë leaned closer. "Tell me, where did you meet this praying mantis of yours? I have heard of Cagn, the trickster god who shapeshifts into such a creature. But you couldn't possibly have met him."

Percy chuckled. "Zoë, _n_ o, it's a band name."

"Oh," she visibly deflated. Clearing her throat, she switched gears. "Why did thou follow us on the quest?"

"Well, the Oracle said 'five shall go west' and I thought you might need an extra body. Someone told me Phoebe got sick."

"How was it thou found us?"

"Ranavalona led me to D.C. It was just coincidence we got there around the time you guys did. A lucky break. Wow, I've been pretty lucky today now that I think about it. Maybe I should play the slots."

Zoë rolled her eyes. "Yes, Tyche must favor thee. Now, is there something else thou must discuss? I would like to continue resting."

Percy blinked. "Oh, were you napping before I came? Sorry, sorry, I didn't know. I'll just, um, get out of your hair."

He stepped out of the Lexus, but before he could close the door, Zoë called out to him.

"Percy. If thou finds Bianca, please tell her I'd like a word."

"Sure thing, Zoë."

 **«White Cut»**

After fifteen minutes, Percy still hadn't found where Bianca had gone. He'd spoken to both Thalia and Grover, hoping they might have known, but neither could give him an answer.

 _She's probably just thinking it over in one of the cars_. Back on the third level of the autorack, Percy sat in the driver's seat of a BMW 750i. The radio was tuned to NPR, where someone was talking about the murders in Sammamish, Washington.

Percy listened half-heartedly to the report. His eyes had closed long ago, though sleep hadn't quite yet come for him.

"This is a little grim, wouldn't you say?"

Percy's eyes snapped open when a voice filled with springtime renewal spoke from the passenger seat. His mother, the goddess Persephone, with her faded eyes and ghastly pale skin, sat with one leg draped over the other. She'd changed from the long flowing dress to a black skirt, thin blue blouse, and white camisole combination, fit for a day in the office. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders in waves of glossy ink.

At a loss, Percy wasn't sure what to say or do. Since she was a goddess, maybe bowing would have been appropriate, but there was no room, so he could only dip his head.

"No need for that," his mother said. Her hand reached over and lifted his chin. She was neither cold nor warm to him. It was almost as if her touch was barely there.

"Mom."

"Yes. I heard you call, asking me for guidance, and I couldn't bear to watch from afar any longer. It is difficult to keep above the Underworld in the winter, but for you, I would move mountains." She put her forehead on his and gave him a light kiss on his nose. "Now, what questions can I help you find the answers to?"

There were more of those than he could immediately ask. Percy wished she were able to stay and talk the whole rest of the day, but he wouldn't try to push his luck. If her time was limited, then he'd just make due with what he was given.

"I guess…" he trailed off and looked away from his mother.

"Don't be embarrassed. How would I have any right to judge you?"

Good question. They may have been family, mother and son, but how could a goddess possibly judge a mortal? What gave her that right?

"How much do you know about what's happened to me?" he asked.

"Quite a lot." She sounded proud of her attention.

Percy nodded. "It's been a rough week, I guess. I haven't really… _lost_ at anything for a long time, so the whole thing with Thorn and the General…"

"You did well in handling them both."

"Did I?"

His mom crossed her arms. "Of course! For how you are right now, I would say both situations were given the best outcome."

"But that's just it!" Percy argued. " _For how I am right now_. In your letter, you told me to do my best. My daughter keeps pushing me to take back my power. And this little fire-tender at camp got me to promise to put more effort into things."

He took a breath. "Yeah, things are fine for how I am, but would they be better if I did my best? If I regained my power and put my back into it?"

"What does your heart tell you, Percy? I can't decide anything for you. In the end, the best I can do is validate what you deem to be the correct answer."

"I don't want to go through that again. That authority makes me feel empty."

"You suffering—yes, I can understand where your reluctance comes from. And I must admit fault for your troubles."

Percy looked at her. "You know?"

"I do. It was _I_ who gave you the idea of using the datura."

" _You_ were that old shaman?"

"I can appear in many different forms. How could I watch you suffer for my mistakes? Think of the datura as my atonement."

"Atonement… for what?"

His mother closed her eyes. "A story for another time. I can't stay here much longer. Allow me to say this: I believe in you, son. Do what you think is right, and I'll stand behind your decision. I love you very much, Percy."

"Thanks…" Percy scratched his eyelid. "That, uh, that means a lot, Mom."

"Now, before I go, a warning to you." She cleared her throat. "The girl you've become fond of—that, _Bianca di Angelo_?"

Percy rubbed his neck. "What about her?"

"She is dangerous for you. I don't approve of her. In fact, if you value my opinion, heed my words: let go of your promise to her brother. Don't endanger yourself for her sake. She will bring you nothing but despair and disappointment."

Persephone's iridescent eyes sparked with unbridled anger. "I will not see that fall upon my son. If the time comes—when it comes!—I want you to promise me you'll do the right thing."

"The… right thing?"

She grasped his arm. "Promise me, Percy. Promise you won't interfere with the Fates."

He swallowed, blinked hard, then haltingly nodded his head. "I promise."

"Good. Good. Thank you for putting my mind at ease," she said, letting go of his sleeve as if nothing happened. "Now, I will leave you to get some well-deserved rest. Take care in your future endeavors, _filiu_ s _mea_."

Percy suddenly felt tired. His mother gave him one last kiss on his hairline before both of his eyes fluttered shut.

* * *

 **A/N: What else is there to say? It's all there. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to leave some feedback. And of course I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.**

* * *

 _ **Review Response-**_

 **SuperKami God: You're right, that's totally my bad, he _is_ more Swamp Thing. I think he would definitely be interested in that particular publication. Sometimes eyewear just gets a guy's goat. **

**Malosi06: I've noticed that too. But like you said, it makes a bit more sense like this. Thanks for your review! And it's good to hear from you again.**


	8. Anarchy is the Pig's Natural State

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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8\. Anarchy is the Pig's Natural State

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Cloudcroft, New Mexico couldn't have been any more dead than it already was.

Percy narrowed his eyes against the biting winds that rolled across James Canyon Highway, the main street cutting right through Cloudcroft. There wasn't even a proper sidewalk to stand on, just the road's shoulder that extended to tourist shops and miscellaneous buildings.

His stomach rumbled at seeing two barbecue restaurants on the same block. Next to one of the restaurants was a church, and squatting beside that was a gun store. Across the street sat a small high school.

There was nothing else to look at after that. Cloudcroft was a village, not even a town, stuck between mountains stretching to the north, south, and east.

"I can't believe we made it all the way to New Mexico already," Grover said. He looked around the street.

"No bus, no taxis, no car rental? Seriously?" Thalia muttered. "How are we gonna get out of here without a ride?"

"We can always ask around," said Percy. He pointed at a store with a big sign hanging over the doors that read FOOD. "Wanna test our luck and maybe grab something for the road?"

"Wait, that place has coffee," Zoë gestured with her chin at a cafe.

Grover nodded enthusiastically. "I hope they use edible cups!"

"Something warm sounds good," Thalia said.

Zoë turned around. "Then we shall go get coffee for everyone. Come, Grover."

Bianca, for the first time since they stepped off the train, spoke up. "Maybe I should come with you?"

"This won't be a job for three people," Zoë said. Her eyes were on Percy in an instant.

Though still uncomfortable, Bianca nodded, watching as Zoë lead Grover into the cafe.

"No point in standing around. Let's go, you two," Thalia said.

Speaking with the lonesome cashier in the grocery store gave Percy some insight into what it was like in Cloudcroft. Less than seven hundred people lived there, the place for skiing wasn't too great, and it was twenty miles through winding canyon roads to get down into Alamogordo, the closest thing resembling a town. Getting out of Cloudcroft would require hitching a ride or calling a cab from Alamogordo.

"What's up with the rats?" Percy asked. There was a whole shelf lined with nothing but squeaky rubber rats, like the kind dogs chewed on.

"We haven't sold one in months," the cashier whispered to himself.

Percy winced at the man's defeated expression, and seeing that they were only a dollar each, he bought ten of the toys, along with a salami hoagie and a can of soda for himself. Neither of the girls got anything, even though he insisted on paying for them. Maybe that had been the problem.

With all of his rubber monstrosities safely tucked in a plastic bag, his sandwich between his teeth, and the soda in his hand, they walked out of the store to sit on the patio.

"That was productive," Percy said, taking a long draught of his soda. He offered half of the sandwich to Bianca, who shook her head. Thalia was reluctant, but after her stomach gurgled, she took his offer and stuffed her face.

Once she finished eating, Thalia got up. "I'm gonna check these other stores. See if anyone has a better idea."

Percy waved as she went on her way. "Bring me a souvenir! Maybe a new pair of pants, too?"

She made a face at him and stuck her tongue out.

He rolled his eyes. "Hilarious."

With her gone, Percy and Bianca were left to themselves. James Canyon Highway was empty. There weren't any cars passing on the largest road. In the cold, thin air, there hung some kind of oddity. It whipped around in the surrounding mountains, rushing through the trees and rising up from the dirt.

The oddity definitely gave Percy a strange feeling. He couldn't describe it well, but if he were to try, it might be like drinking a gallon of Red Bull and not having adult supervision for a long weekend.

Still, the sensation of empowerment was dulled when he looked at Bianca's cracked impassive facade. If she were trying to emulate Zoë, there was quite a ways for her to go. It was clear, beneath her straight lips, Bianca wasn't exactly happy.

Percy chewed the inside of his lip, ripping some of the tissue there, but drawing no blood. This melancholy was probably related to his awkward reticence yesterday.

"Hey, Bianca."

She looked at him, acknowledging his existence at the very least. In her eyes, Percy saw a softening. What kind of face would he have to be making for her to look at him like that?

"Hm?" She grunted more than responded.

"You aren't a bad person," he said, giving her a solid—but not intense—appraising stare. "You're not. Don't think that you are, okay?"

"But yesterday—"

"I don't know what happened. It was my own personal freak-out, I guess. Like... when your shoulder was against mine, you felt cold. Ice cold. And not in a good way."

"I… felt cold?" Bianca asked, unsure if she'd heard right.

"Yeah. I can't explain it well, but that's basically it. Look, believe me when I say that your decision wasn't a bad one. If I'd been in your place, I might've accepted too."

"You would have accepted? But it was so… _selfish_."

Percy watched as Bianca chewed through her index finger's nail. He wondered how a girl with clear insecurity issues could bring him _"despair and disappointment"_ like his mother so vehemently claimed.

"Nobody is perfect, right? I can't say I've gone through the same thing, but if I had a kid sibling, maybe I'd feel the same way. Everyone has the right to be selfish sometimes." Percy shrugged. His image of Bianca wasn't far-changed from what it'd been before. She was funny, and pretty, and brave. Maybe she was braver than he was if the willingness to speak about her insecurities was anything he could go by. Being so open to another person certainly took courage.

"Not when it comes to family," Bianca shook her head. The morose air she carried was strangely suitable for her appearance. Brooding and gloomy, she took on a new persona in her own way. "I should have been the last person to ever think about leaving Nico. I know he hates me."

Percy clicked his teeth together. "He doesn't hate you."

Bianca hugged her knees close to her chest. "He avoided me when we were at camp."

"That was probably 'cause you were hanging around Zoë and the other Hunters. He was intimidated."

"Oh… that makes sense."

"Man. Yesterday, before I left to find you guys, he asked me to keep you safe. Made me promise, actually." Percy stretched the truth a little. He smiled at Bianca and gave her a solid pat on her shoulder. "He loves you."

"Does he?" Bianca looked at him, the weight of Percy's conviction bogging her sulky eyes and pouting lips. "How can you know?"

"Just because a guy doesn't grow up with love doesn't mean he can't see it in someone else," Percy grinned. He finished his soda and crumpled the can. "Nico wouldn't have asked me to watch over you if he hated you. Actually, he wanted to come by himself. If I hadn't stopped him, he might have been the fifth person on this quest."

"And if he'd met the General…" Bianca paled and cradled her head.

"But he didn't, and he won't, staying safe at camp," Percy placated the panic he saw rising. A few gentle circles rubbed on Bianca's back seemed to help her calm down. "It's alright, deep breaths. Do you need me to get you a paper bag or something?"

Bianca rolled her eyes, smiling. "Ha… ha. Very funny. The prophesied Laughter Buddha himself."

"I think that's already a thing. Don't you rub his belly and get three wishes?"

Percy caught Bianca's eyes move his midsection and saw how her hand jerked. He smirked at her knowingly and sidled closer, throwing his arm around her neck. Their cheeks squished together. With his other hand, he pulled out his phone, snapping a quick photo of them together, seated on the front porch of a weather-beaten grocery store.

Bianca moved away some and looked at him. "What're you doing?"

"Taking a picture with my favorite Hunter of Artemis," said Percy. "A memory of our bonding time."

She stared, cocking her head back. "You're a weird one. Definitely a weird one." Then, she smiled, moving her hair to cover some of her face. "But you're a pretty good guy."

Percy went to say something witty, but a sudden bout of energy rattled him into standing. In fact, he almost leaped off the porch in the rush that filled his veins.

"What the heck?" Bianca got up. "You okay?"

He could hear the trees laughing at him. He could feel the plants in their ceramic prisons talk about him. The weeds pushing up through the cracked asphalt jeered, and the tufts of grass in the church's courtyard derisively mocked him.

The sounds of avid revolution begat another rush. This time, though, it was far from pleasant or otherwise benign. His teeth crunched together, and thorns invaded him from the inside. It pushed through his flesh, twisting the tissue into a pulpy blight of meat.

Rebellion, his mind screamed at him. The land had gone completely… _wild_. No longer was he the sovereign willingly accepted by nearby vegetation.

Rebellion, his mind screamed again, again, and again. His daughter was screaming at him too, now, adding her own voice to the commotion.

Rebellion! It was anarchy! Madness and pandemonium and all other words that properly conveyed uproar, tumult, furor, and disorder.

Percy gulped. He could feel something coming. It echoed on the horizon, a vague gesturing of splattered red hues and the pounding of hooves, like drums of war. A screech in the distance reached the town, some wild animal being gutted, and such was loud enough to set the hairs on his arms to stand straight.

"Hey, Percy, what's wrong?" Bianca grabbed his hand. She pulled so he faced her.

"Wild," he muttered. "It's all wild."

"What are you talking about?"

Zoë and Grover chose then to come back from their coffee break. They both had their hands full with drinks and bags of pastries. Percy hadn't even seen them approaching, too caught up in his own mindful hysteria. Even then, with cheap food in front of him, he felt thorns of ardor dig into his intestines.

"Percy? You okay, man?" Grover asked. "You're looking a little pale."

"Indeed," Zoë concurred. "What happened, Bianca?"

"I-I don't know. He was fine just a couple of minutes ago, I swear!"

"Maybe he needs coff—" Grover stopped talking at the same time that Percy doubled over.

A rush of warm air rolled down from the mountains. It swallowed the village whole, like a rabid animal's musky breath.

"Grover!"

"Percy!"

They collapsed in unison. Percy's vision had cracked, split diagonally, his left side somehow rising higher than his right. His face had been forced into a cross between grimace and scowl. There was a pounding in his head, so loud and obnoxious it almost sounded like music from a nightclub.

Bianca helped him to his feet. Thalia had rejoined their group and was saying they needed to go. Zoë supported Grover, getting him to stand on uneven legs.

"Trouble," Thalia said. "We've got to go, _now._ "

 **«White Cut»**

It was two months past Halloween, and somehow skeletons were still all the rage.

The group had made it to the edge of Cloudcroft. Then, they'd been set upon by the enemy.

 _Jack Skellington copycats, eh? Stay in your appropriate holiday!_ Percy slammed his fist into one of the undead police officers. They were vaguely transparent, with greyish skin and toxic yellow eyes, and there were three of them in total. So technically not skeletons, but ghouls or zombies. Since their bones were somewhat visible, Percy didn't know precisely what to classify them as.

One of the ghouls had been disarmed thanks to Zoë's superb knife skills. Another was trying to get to the lieutenant, but couldn't quite reach her past Thalia's shield and spear combo. The last ghoul was looking through Percy, barely recognizing him as a threat.

Even though it should have been a solid "three of them versus four of us" scenario, Grover wasn't in any condition to fight. While that would have evened the odds, unfortunately, Percy was also a bit under the weather himself.

The ghoul raised his handgun, leveling it at Percy's face. With only a yard between them, Percy would have been pumped full of lead had Ranavalona not taken the shots. Her arm cut through the ghoul's torso, bisecting the hell-creature.

Almost as soon as he hit the floor, the ghoul was being pulled back together by some high-tier necromancy.

Two more gunshots rang out, and once again, Percy found his life saved by Ranavalona acting as a shield. He whipped around and saw a new pair of ghouls emerging from the trees by the road. These weren't dressed as police officers but instead wore green and black S.W.A.T. gear. Despite the heavy uniform, their eyes burned with yellow light. Both carried carbines.

"Deal with those guys," he told his daughter. She gave him a hesitant nod. "I can handle this one."

The once downed creature got to his feet. Percy went in for a tackle. He knocked the ghoul to the ground again, wrestling the gun from his hand. Flipping it around, Percy unloaded the remaining bullets into the ghoul's head. He'd never asked to learn the basics of firing a handgun, but hanging around with some crowds just made those experiences inescapable.

With the magazine empty, he tossed the gun aside and rolled away.

There was no time to catch his breath. Percy's opponent stood, extending a baton. Behind him, he heard gunshots crack.

"What are these things?" he asked aloud, watching as all five bullet holes refilled with bone and skin. "Who got the General in contact with George Romero?"

"Spartoi," Zoë said, decapitating her foe and kicking his body away. "Men who rose from dragon's teeth. Founders of Thebes alongside Cadmus. Nigh unstoppable killing machines."

"Great!" Percy ducked under a baton swing. His insides still stung fiercely, but self-preservation helped keep him moving. "How are we supposed to win then? I'm partial to winning!"

"The Wild!" Grover cried out. "A gift from the Wild!"

His declaration brought about a stream of warm wind whistling through the canyon. Percy wheezed as the thorns multiplied inside of him and at the chorus of anarchy that reigned all around. He lost feeling in his legs. Like a stone, he sank.

Zoe was being pushed back by her opponent. Bianca took a direct hit from a bullet but survived thanks to the Nemean Lion's pelt. Thalia's lip had been split, blood dripping off her chin.

A gnarled hand latched onto his arm. The promise he'd made to Nico rang in his ears.

Percy could see the hope and awe in Nico's eyes again.

If he failed to keep that promise, what would replace the admiration? Resentment? Disgust? Hatred? Nothing at all, perhaps?

Off to his left, there was the sound of cracking wood and toppling trees.

There weren't many options. Either he put in the effort, or he might see another promise lost. And what kind of person would that make him? How would he ever be able to face Nico if Bianca died here?

Percy scraped the pads on his fingers against the asphalt, pressing and curling his fingers so hard that the skin peeled off. He closed his eyes.

Ranavalona took the cue, using her hand to meld into Percy's forearm. From her, he took back the next highest seat of his authority. Given the situation, he didn't see a reason to take everything. That would come later, no doubt. But for now, he was satisfied with where he sat.

 **«White Cut»**

The union with Ranavalona ended when the spartoi attacked again.

Percy drew on a nearby weed. Where once chaos had been sown, he brought order down on the rebelling vegetation. Now, the plant listened and obeyed, falling in line with his command. It grew and strengthened, absorbing other nearby plants of their essence, then wrapped around the ghoul's chest.

The weed chucked the spartoi across Cloudcroft, well out of sight.

Ranavalona slowly disintegrated behind him.

Percy slammed his fist onto the ground. Beneath weathered layers of asphalt, the roots of a hundred weeds combined into a web. The connection made transferring their essences easier. Further, Percy felt the forest to his left warn him of incoming danger.

Two second later, a massive boar tore through the trees. It reached a height of thirty feet, and had huge, bloodshot eyes filled with wild anger.

Everyone, even the ghouls, turned around to gape. Percy took the chance to focus on the vegetation under his feet. He crashed his foot down. Green-red tendrils burst through the road, knocking the ghouls into the nearest mountain.

"A blessing of the Wild," Grover said, slowly backing away from the boar.

"The Erymanthian Boar," Zoë nocked another arrow in her bow.

Thalia raised her spear.

Grover pulled her back with both hands. "No! Don't kill it!"

"Is it even possible to kill?" Bianca asked.

"Only one person was able to subdue the creature," said Zoë. "And the time of such demigods are long past."

The boar squealed, the brunt of its lost breath hitting their gathered group.

Percy shucked his jacket off. One of the tendrils took it from him, holding it away from the battle.

"Move!" Thalia shouted as the boar tried to smash her with its tusks.

Grover, Bianca, and Zoë split up, running in different directions. All the boar could do was try to follow them with its eyes—until it noticed Percy hadn't gone with the crowd.

When the bloodshot orbs landed on him, Percy lifted his hands. In response, a mass of wood broke the ground beneath his feet, raising him to the boar's height. Atop a long wall of organic material, he stood, separating the boar from his friends.

The boar pawed the ground, making ready to charge. It rocketed toward the wall. Both tusks looked like they could punch through the wood.

If that were the case, then stopping the boar dead was high priority. Percy thrust his arm out. The wall groaned.

Spikes grew from the wood, forcing the boar to halt before it impaled itself. Porky Pig was smarter than Percy would have initially given credit.

Twitching his fingers, one of the larger spears shot from its position. Instead of skewering the boar, though, the sharpened tip glanced along a tusk. It was deflected with a flick of the giant monster's head, ricocheting into a nearby hill, sending a cloud of dirt up.

Percy raised an eyebrow. He should have expected inhuman reflexes. The creature's size had fooled him.

Another huge javelin made to pierce the monster's foot but was again intercepted, this time between two rows of teeth. The boar clamped down and chewed through the javelin, mulching the material then spitting it out.

The wall rumbled. Percy watched as much of the left-hand side toppled in on itself, rendered unstable once the javelins had been launched. He'd used too much material for the missiles, leaving behind a hollow section.

Before him, the boar snorted and shook its head, watching intently.

Two more javelins fired at the creature, which were both knocked aside as the right side of Percy's wall collapsed to rubble. The boar took in a great breath.

It's chest expanded as air filled both lungs.

Percy didn't like what he saw. He leaped off the wall, falling thirty feet to the ground.

During his descent, the boar unleashed the capacity of its lungs. The rush of wind hit and shattered his wooden barricade. Percy was near the bottom when he was blown away. A surging cradle of grass rose to catch him, gently bringing his momentum to a stop. He slid down the tangle of fibers to land on the ground.

Clearly, the boar was a fan of the Big Bad Wolf. He'd huffed and puffed Percy's creation down.

The boar wasted no time. It charged at him. Each time its hooves fell, everything in the canyon shook.

Percy sprinted up the hill. Sweat soaked his shirt through. The wall hadn't been easy to create. Now that most of it was rubble, all he could do was leave it behind. There was more material around for him to use, true, but most of it was still in open rebellion of any form of control.

Nature yearned for independence. It wanted to be left wild and free to do as it pleased, some vague semblance of desire only realized because of an interloper.

Even though nature wished for natural anarchy, the irony was that such pretense was only available because of an unnatural source.

As he ran, Percy campaigned to bring order around him. The vegetation would lose. Behind him, the boar continued to chase. Unlike him, though, the monster had to smash through a thicket of trees which tried to fight back.

Percy neared the hill's crest. On the other side, he could feel trees, flowers, bushes, and grass as well. A lot of it. An idea came to him. Looking back, he found the monster was still a good fifty yards away.

The burn in his legs and lungs told him to stop. Percy did. He heaved his breaths while seizing the vegetation on the other side of the crest.

Pulling, he brought it past the inner part of the hill, squeezing its essence like juice through the roots, then extending those roots closer to him.

Looking down from his position, he saw Cloudcroft below him, a few hundred feet away. The road leading to the village had been ruined by his wall, large chunks of wood had fallen in the town, crushing cars and buildings.

The boar was nearing. It plowed past the meager defense the pines provided. When its tusks gouged into the ground, some tons of dirt were sent skyward.

A few pieces of rock hit Percy. One, in particular, struck his skull.

Pain worse than anything he'd felt in the past several years gripped him. His head bobbed back and forth, vision colored almost entirely red. For a few seconds, he couldn't breathe. The focus of his entire world lingered on his head, where the stone struck. He lost his legs in a swell of needles that numbed his lower body.

Slowly, shards of reality came back to him. Loud squealing from the Erymanthian Boar drew his attention. Though his eyes watered and there was still a tinge of pink on what he saw, Percy wouldn't have missed the monster. It was almost on top of him. There were maybe ten yards between them now.

Percy fell to his hands and knees. Supporting his body and his machinations, he waited.

The boar lowered its head. It was going to trample him. Or eat him. One of the two.

Now that he thought about it, the options didn't have to be independent. He could be trampled and then eaten. The death of a true warrior.

Just as Percy felt the wash of the boar's hot breath, the hill erupted. A crushing whirlwind of gargantuan plant tendrils slammed into the super-sized porker, sending it flying into the village.

Under its weight, cars were flattened, and half of a church was destroyed. The Ski Palace was scattered by the boar's tusks when it stood up. Percy got aboard one of the tendrils, then sent the others down into Cloudcroft. The earth shifted and broke as they moved like worms.

The hill crumbled. A landslide took thousands of pounds of material down on a slope. It covered the already destroyed road and hit the edge of town, burying a few restaurants along the way.

When the boar made to charge back up at Percy, five tendrils resurfaced, whipping the monster away.

Percy beckoned with his head.

He felt his neck crack.

The tendrils swung in every which direction, trying to beat the boar down. Despite having been punted already, the monster fought back, destroying two tendrils between its teeth.

Frustrated and losing steam, Percy took hold of the rooted vegetation in and around Cloudcroft.

He panted raggedly.

His muscles ached.

The other four tendrils redacted into the ground, feeding off of the new support they had been given.

Then, they came together.

But not without taking their toll.

The veins in Percy's neck felt like they were ready to burst. His spine was being squeezed by growing bark. Thorns were twisting his heart.

Taking hold of the new, singular tentacle, Percy swiped his arm across his view of the village. A flash of pain popped in his skull. It felt like sandpaper was being drawn from out of his sinuses.

The canyon quaked. Crunching eclipsed every other sound. A colossal shadow loomed above the boar, and indeed all of Cloudcroft—one, lone object able to blot the low morning sun as it kept growing from the earth, rising and rising until it stood like some monolithic god-send, nearly one-hundred feet tall.

Percy stared. The wild nature had been feeding into his machinations this whole time. How hadn't he noticed that? Even though it was hard to control, his power had been given an incredible boost. The plants were riled but full of godly essence.

His arms trembled and burned. His legs burned too, so he crossed them and sat down heavily on the tendril beneath him. Percy felt his muscles slowly turning to jelly.

The constant use of his authority was whittling away at him.

He came to understand this battle would handicap him for the near future. Hopefully, he would be safe for a few days.

Percy contemplated what to do as he watched the Erymanthian Boar back away from the swaying tentacle overlord.

In the end, he didn't think long. The tentacle twisted at its base, sweeping low to catch the boar in its path. Buildings exploded into fragments. Roads were upheaved. Utility poles snapped. Rubble was sent flying. Cars twisted into piles of scrap.

The boar stood no chance. It must have known there was no dodging, so it tried to meet the rushing attack head-on with its tusks.

But its attempt was frail. The tentacle slammed into the monster and sent it careening away. A home run with the bases loaded.

Percy watched the boar soar. He recalled the old saying _when pigs fly_ and figured a bunch of people would be losing bets right about now. The porker touched down in Cloudcroft's southernmost neighborhood with a great booming blow. The tentacle followed.

The village shifted and broke. Pipes ruptured. Sewage spilled in pockets across several blocks. Power lines snapped, sparks flying.

When the tentacle got close enough, it attacked again, leveling over a dozen houses in one swing. This time, it wrapped around the boar, lifting its struggling body high, then bringing it down again, rocking the canyon. Dust flew up, clouding the neighborhood. A crater sat where a hotel used to stand.

The pig barely managed to get to its feet after that. It snorted, toppling some trees. Percy gave credit for tenacity where it was due—in this case, Baconator definitely deserved praise.

"Wait! Percy, stop!"

A voice was shouting at him.

"Too much collateral!"

"Stop this madness!"

"Don't kill it, please!"

Not just one voice, but many now. Percy leaned over the edge of the tendril he sat on. Below him, on the loam that he'd tilled as consequence of his battle with the boar, Bianca, Thalia, Zoë, and Grover all waved at him. They didn't look happy.

He glanced at the boar again, just in time to see it drop, exhausted but alive. Satisfied with the results, he checked back in with the others. He'd almost forgotten they were still around.

Scratch that, he'd completely forgotten. At least, he was glad to see they were fine. A bit dirty, but nothing a good wash wouldn't fix.

Percy made sure to scrutinize Bianca more than the others. She wasn't hurt. He nodded happily to himself. He'd kept his promise to Nico for now. That was great. He'd also fought hard, which was gratifying in its own way. All in all, a good day, then.

Blinking sweat out of his eyes, Percy lowered the tendril and rolled off. He stumbled on the squishy ground, noting for the first time that the hill was barren of plant life. He'd taken it all away for his own use, tamed the wild nature.

"Percy, you're hurt!" Bianca slapped a handkerchief into his palm.

"What, where?" Percy asked.

She pointed at his forehead, then his nose, then his right ear, and finally at his mouth. "Maybe one rag isn't enough," she muttered.

"Are you alright?" Grover asked, glancing around absentmindedly. "You aren't looking so hot."

"Well," Percy dabbed at each place Bianca had pointed. When he pulled the handkerchief away, blood stuck to the white fabric. "I can't say this was unexpected. If I did, I'd be lying."

"What do you mean?" Bianca asked. Now that she was closer, Percy could see her skin was pale. It was as if she'd just seen a ghost. Or a hundred ghosts. The amount could have varied.

"We can't stay here," Zoë bit out. "So much damage… unthinkable. Unbelievable."

"Hey, the boar is down. Let's just kill it and go, then," Percy shrugged.

"No! You can't!" Grover protested. "It's a gift from the Wild. We can use it. Travel on it. The boar can move a lot faster than a car can, and doesn't have to stick to roads."

"Grover, dude, I respect your love of nature, but that pig deserves pork-chop status in my book."

"No, he is right," said Zoë. She looked in the direction of the towering tentacle. "We should use it."

"Let's just get out of here," Thalia muttered.

Percy crossed his arms. "I say we kill it. I won't trust something wild. Not even wild rice. Jasmine rice is clearly the way to go."

Grover looked horrified. "How could you say that? _You_ of all people?"

"Let's put it to a vote?"

"Haven't you done enough?" Zoë gave him a disappointed shake of her head.

Percy cocked his eyebrow. "What're you talking about?"

"This town."

Everybody stared at Cloudcroft. What was left, anyway. Percy pursed his lips, averting his eyes after a few seconds.

"Fine, let's get on the boar and get out of here," he conceded softly. The tentacle overlord sank into the earth again.

Zoë squinted at him. "We will discuss the appropriate way to handle these situations in the future. For now, let us leave. Charon and Hades have mercy on the souls sent to them today."

 **«White Cut»**

In order to coax the Erymanthian Boar forward, Grover had played some bad music, enchanted an apple, and _voila_ , they were on their way. Percy was hungry, thirsty, tired, aching, and ready to sleep like the dead.

It was just past 9:00 am.

At least he wasn't bleeding from his nose, ears, or forehead anymore. When he spoke, some blood tended to spill out, though, so it wasn't a total win.

Not to mention, everyone seemed more than a little upset with him. And he could understand why.

Still, he figured they were being a little unfair. He'd saved their bacon. The least he might have expected would be thanks. Maybe some high-fives or fist bumps. A pat on the back would've gone a long way to boosting his mood.

Awkward silence, though? That pushed unease into the pit of his stomach. Or maybe he was still feeling the effects of the battle.

An hour into their piggyback ride, Grover broke the thick atmosphere first. "That was all pretty… uh, impressive, Percy. Scary, though."

"How did you have trouble fighting the General?" Bianca asked. She seemed a bit less nauseated than before. But her eyes were dark. "You seem pretty strong."

"The General is stronger. Scenario: Atlas and I fight, no holds barred, in a copse of trees; he gets in my face before I can blink and tears my head off. Fatality." Percy shrugged. "It takes me time and energy to do what I do. Like a chef preparing his meal, so too must I go to great lengths for my art."

"You made it look so effortless," Grover said.

Percy laughed, almost choking on a chunk of blood as it came up. He spat the glob over the boar's side. "Good thing it isn't."

"Why's that? Wouldn't it be better to have that power at your fingertips?" asked Thalia.

"Surprisingly enough, I don't think so. Oh, sure, at first I was excited about my power," Percy lay back on the boar. He kicked one leg over the other and rested both arms behind his head. "But I was never satisfied with what I got. Take, take, take until everyone pays tribute, but to what end? Money is fine, and buying things is super cool… but I guess it all felt so vapid."

"What do you mean? Vapid?" Bianca looked down at him, blocking some of the sun.

It was strange. Even though the boar was running at a constant pace, and the scenery duly reflected that, Percy didn't feel like he was speeding through the desert. There wasn't much wind, nor was there a need to hold tight onto the monster's coarse hair. It was smooth sailing.

That was good. Percy appreciated the calm.

"When I was young—a kid—I wanted something better than what I was given. I hated being normal. It was always _Percy this, Percy that, Percy your grades are slipping, Percy don't fight with Ricky, Percy eat your vegetables, Percy don't look at me like that_ , blah blah blah. The first couple of places I was put in were like that."

He pointed at the sky. "But I wanted more. I wanted to be Superman. Green Lantern. Spiderman. Thor. I wanted super-powers. I wanted to be more. And when I was eight, I got what I wished for. Or I guess I learned about my authority."

Percy made a thumbs-down gesture. "Look, I won't bore you with the juicy details, but having power isn't the be-all end-all. Especially not when it's just this inherent thing. It makes me complacent. And how vapid is that, eh? But more than that, what's the point of having power if you can't use it?"

Sitting up, Percy found Thalia, Grover, and Bianca looking completely lost. Zoë narrowed her eyes.

"Restricting thyself for the challenge?"

"To feel equal to other people," Percy corrected. What did this woman think he was? Some kind of battle-freak? "That wasn't how I started, though. And I won't pretend that I haven't used my power to... um... cheat. But cheating is only fun 'til you realize you're so far ahead of the game, there isn't a point in trying anymore—sometimes you'll feel like quitting early."

"But that—that right there!—is why I made Ranavalona. A friend. A mother. An equal. Any of those would have been good enough. And what do I get?" Sighing, Percy smiled at the sky. "None of those things, in the long run."

Zoë leaned forward. "How did thou do it?"

"That's not the right question. It wasn't technical, mechanical, or biological. It happened because I wanted it to happen. But I had to sacrifice most of my authority. When she took it, I guess you could say she gave me part of what I wanted. Equality. So I let her keep the power I'd given. The pieces of me I'd left behind in her, to give her some form of sentience—that all didn't matter to me. It still doesn't, not really."

"How powerful are you?" Thalia asked. "Doing something like that is almost crossing into the territory of the gods."

"The million dollar question," Percy laughed. "Well, I can't say. I guess if I were basing power with regards to Atlas, I'd put myself at… fifty?"

"Fifty what?"

"Fifty power-ratings out of one-hundred. Atlas is one-hundred. He's faster, stronger, probably smarter, more experienced, better looking for some people, and he's got the evil smirk totally on lock. So far, he's the strongest dude I've ever fought. So he's the peak of what I know for power."

Percy heaved his shoulders in a gesture to convey his _What can ya do?_ mentality. "Even if I had my full authority, the battleground plays a huge role. If I'm on a building or something, I'll get my butt kicked. If I'm on an airplane, I'll get my butt kicked. If I'm on a cruise liner in the middle of the Indian Ocean, I'll get my butt kicked."

"Apart from those oddly specific circumstances, you're still not confident? Are you telling me even if you were in a forest you wouldn't be able to do what you did back there in Cloudcroft?" Thalia asked. The mention of Cloudcroft dampened her mood.

"Not easily." Percy rolled his shoulders and stretched both elbows. The cracks that sounded made him shiver. "Nature there was saturated with wild power. It was full to bursting. Rebellious, but filled with good vitality. Hard to rein in, true, but when it came down to it, I didn't have to work as hard to change or manipulate it for my own uses. But I pushed myself hard."

"Even here, now that we're away from Cloudcroft, I feel like my power is less... potent. It'll have less bite if I put the same amount of effort in."

"That's because the power you felt was Pan's," Grover bleated.

"First name Peter? Was I about to go to Neverland?"

"God of the Wild. Pan. We satyrs have been searching for him for a long, long, long time." Grover sighed. "But the magic is gone. The Erymanthian Boar must have been sent by him."

Percy whistled. "Can't say I like this Pan too much. He and I don't jive, I guess. Cloudcroft was—"

"Speaking of Cloudcroft," Zoë scraped some dirt from her boot with her knife. Not once did she look away from Percy. "Let us discuss the condition we left it in."

The others grimaced.

Percy slouched and ran a hand through his hair. "What else could I do? If the boar killed us, we'd have failed the quest. Artemis would stay chained. Atlas would be loose. Annabeth would probably die or stay hostage."

And my promises would have been lies, Percy thought.

"Don't forget the monster that has the power to destroy Olympus," Bianca muttered. "That would still be out there with Lady Artemis off the trail."

"There are always alternatives," Zoë said. But after a second, she dropped her head and cursed. "Yet I cannot say thine reasoning is wrong. Pragmatically speaking, thou did well. If Olympus were destroyed, and the Titan King rose… well…"

"What does Kronos want, anyway?" Percy asked. Upon saying the Titan's name, something sharp drove into his back, slipping down from the base of his neck to the middle of his shoulder blades.

"To destroy the Olympians?" Grover said.

"And after that?"

Everyone blinked. Apparently, Percy wasn't the only one in the dark. That was reassuring—to some extent, he supposed. If the Titan King did rise to power, at least they would all die just as clueless as the next person.

"Look, it wasn't ideal, I get that. But I wasn't going to let you guys die."

 _Especially not Thalia or Bianca._

"While I at least appreciate the sentiment, in the future please talk with us about any drastic measures thou believes necessary." Zoë put her knife away. "We are a team. We must try to act as one if we wish to prevail and bring this quest to a successful end. We must put our trust in each other."

Percy nodded. "Alright. I'll do what I can. No promises, though. I suppose I should tell you, then, that I'm pretty worn out. If we get into another fight soon, I'll be hard-pressed to do my flower-power thing. So don't expect corsages unless it's an emergency."

* * *

 **A/N: Not much to say here. We get a boar beatdown. And the dichotomy between chaos and order in Percy's eyes. Anyway, thanks for reading again. And thanks to those who've given feedback and shown support. That's always appreciated.**

* * *

 _ **Review Response-**_

 **Superkami God- O hai Mark.**

 **Malosi06- Thanks! They were all in Washington D.C. Then they crossed over into Virginia. This chapter, they were in New Mexico thanks to Apollo's sweet train. Next, they'll be moving into Arizona.**


	9. Hero for the People

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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9\. Hero for the People

* * *

The boar ran west across the desert, and the sun followed. Eventually, though, it had to stop for water and snacks. They parked in front of a shallow creek by some cacti. The boar drank and ate, occasionally shooting Percy a stink-eye glare that was more than a little worrying.

"I don't think Baconator likes me."

"No surprise there," Grover and Thalia said in unison. They grinned at each other and high-fived.

Grover stretched his goat legs. "Let's go while he's distracted. We don't want him thinking about eating us next."

Percy chuckled. "With all those spines in his mouth, I guess you could call him a _pork-_ upine."

Everybody took turns rolling their eyes at him.

"Or maybe a _hedge_ -hog? Eh? Eh?" Percy gave himself a pat on the back.

Thalia pulled him away from the boar. "Come along, Pun Meister."

Not far from where the monster stopped, they came across a cracked road. Sand covered so much of it, there was barely anything to see. The asphalt had long since been bleached by the blazing sun.

A tumbleweed rolled in front of a lone sign that hung on squeaky chains.

WELCOME TO OLD EDEN, ARIZONA!

The post it was supported by had somehow survived the elements but looked worse for wear. Further down the road, there was a small square decorated to look like a vintage Western movie.

On the left side of the road stood a saloon, a bank, and a taqueria. On the opposite side were a few curios shops, a butcher, and the Red Rider Inn.

It would have been cool. But there was no sign of life. Even Cloudcroft hadn't been this bad. The buildings were all in disrepair. Many had lost wood to rot or wind. The saloon's entire top floor had collapsed. Bullet holes riddled the bank's walls.

A tiny dust devil whirled at the other end of the street. Behind it rose a hilly horizon. When Percy looked closer, he realized the hills weren't natural. They were actually massive mounds of metal garbage. Washing machines, dryers, cars, and general pieces of scrap had been piled high.

"Oh, I hate this." Percy really didn't want to go into the junkyard. Something told him he would forfeit a lot if he did.

Thalia crossed her arms and huffed. "Okay, who's the god of car rental agencies? Let's all sacrifice our next meal to that guy. He must be feeling underappreciated."

"At least the view is beautiful," Bianca said, pointing at the setting sun.

Percy squatted by the sign. He ran a hand over the dirt. It was barren. Within the boundary of Old Eden, he and his friends were the only living things. The wood of the buildings was useless to him. He wouldn't be able to control it. The stuff was dead. Very dead.

That meant he would have to create a datura plant from the earth. It was difficult, though possible. In his state, actually, maybe it would be better if he didn't try.

Stretching his senses, Percy swallowed thickly.

Nothing. For at least a mile in every direction there was no vegetation.

 _Impossible. The boar was eating some cacti. We aren't that far from the creek. There has to be something_.

But search as he might, he found nothing. Only the big empty. A vast directionless buzz droned through his brain. The lack of plant life meant he had no choice but to create _datura stramonium_ by way of his most absurd power.

Behind him, Percy heard Bianca whisper to someone, "What's he doing?"

Grover replied, "I'm not sure. He's a mystery even to me. And I'm the one who found him!"

Thalia butted into their conversation. "He can probably hear you guys. We're literally standing _right_ behind him."

Zoë said, "Perhaps he is so lost in concentration he cannot hear us? Now would be the time to throw insults at him. I'll start. Percy Jackson, you are a scobberlotcher."

"And your father smelt of elderberries," Thalia added.

Percy wanted to smile, but couldn't bring himself to do so. The earth wasn't responding. Something was overcoming his own power. He could feel the indomitable curtain separating him from creating new vegetation.

This place wasn't normal. The whole of Old Eden was dead. And this was more literal than Cloudcroft. At least there, plants had roots. They had a place to grow because the soil wasn't polluted by the very concept of death.

And if the land was infertile, he couldn't plant the metaphorical seed. Nothing would grow here anymore. Not even robust cacti.

Percy couldn't overcome the veil of desolation. Which meant no datura. And without datura, he would have to deal with the coming night through his own force of will.

"Rana."

He waited to feel her presence. Seconds passed with no response.

" _Ranavalona_."

Even though he put more of an edge in his voice nothing came of it. This place wouldn't let anything new manifest in its territory. That must have extended to his daughter as well, considering she used sources of vegetation to mold herself.

Digging deeper, he found his connection with her. She was resting. Percy had taken much of what kept her anchored to life.

She wasn't ignoring him, Percy realized. There was something else going on. Was this rebellion? Or was it iron-fist tyranny? He didn't know, but neither appealed to him at the moment.

Standing, he turned around to find Grover talking with everybody about some acorns. Percy frowned. He hadn't felt those either.

"Yes, yes, Percy can be the tiny deformed one," Zoë said, holding her chin thoughtfully. She looked up. "Oh, he's joined us again."

"We need to get out," he said. "I can't use my power here."

"What?" Thalia snapped her fingers. A sliver of electricity zipped through the air. She frowned. "Mine works fine."

Grover held his pipes up. "My magic is good, too."

"Maybe you're just tired?" Bianca suggested. "You really went the extra mile today."

"No, no, no. It's not that," Percy stepped past them. He gaped at what he saw. Instead of the road that led back to the creek, he saw a mirror image of Old Eden. All of the buildings were the same, still perfectly run-down. In fact, it wasn't even a mirror image. It was the _exact_ same.

He looked back and saw Old Eden again. Then he looked forward. Once more, Old Eden.

Head spinning, Percy leaned on the sign, which now said WELCOME TO OLD EDEN, ARIZONA! on both sides. Whichever way he looked, the junkyard always rested at the very end of the road. They had only one direction to go.

"Oh, I _hate_ this."

"I think I'm gonna hurl," Thalia braced her hands on her knees.

"The acorns don't lie," Grover said sullenly.

"Maybe we can cut through the buildings into the desert again?" Bianca asked.

Zoë, clearly troubled, shook her head. "We shouldn't travel in the dark. Temperatures can drop drastically here in the desert at night. Not to mention the lack of light will severely handicap us if we are set upon by monsters."

Thalia grunted. "I think I speak for most of us here when I say this sucks and I'm tired."

"Let's camp for the night?" Grover asked. "If our only choice is to go through that junkyard, we should at least do it during the day."

"We can take shelter in one of the buildings," Percy said.

Zoë took off her small backpack and set it down. "Tetanus."

Nodding, Percy said, "Or we can rough it right here."

 **«Black Cut»**

Percy hadn't expected the Hunters to pull sleeping bags and foldable foam mattress out from their packs.

"I'm gonna have to start accepting these things as normal, huh?"

Thalia gave him a pitying smile. "It's just another thing you'll learn to live with."

"Just realized that I left most of my stuff in the Hermes cabin."

"If we get back to camp and you find anything missing, tell me." Thalia cracked her knuckles. "I'll set them straight for you."

Percy noted she said _if_ , not _when_. The prophecy definitely said one would be lost in the land without rain. And another would die at their parent's hand. That didn't inspire much confidence. But maybe then the other three would survive and succeed. So there was a bright side.

When Bianca, Grover, and Thalia went out to get some wood for a campfire, Percy was left to assemble the sleeping stuff with Zoë.

They worked in relative silence. Only when he felt a light touch to his shoulder, did Percy look up. Zoë gestured at the sky.

"The stars," she whispered. It sounded as if she were afraid to scare them away.

Above them, the sky had become a canopy of dark blue, with thousands of white specks glowing in the distance. There were more than he'd ever seen before.

All Percy could say was, "Woah."

Zoë stared at them, her work forgotten. "Even though I see them often, nothing else quite manages to make me feel so small."

"Y'know, living in the city… I don't get to appreciate this view as much," Percy said. "I didn't know there were _this_ many we could see."

As much as he found the sight beautiful, the darkness still loomed. He'd been hoping to ignore it. But he couldn't.

Percy watched as the last touches of purple and pink disappeared. The sun had set.

Waiting was excruciating. Something would happen any minute now, and he'd feel the world distort, signaling his failure to pay.

But as he kept his eyes glued to the fresco of stars, nothing happened. Thirty seconds became a minute. Then that became two. Everything seemed to be the same. Percy rubbed his palms against the front of his jeans. There, he felt the rough denim scratch against his skin. He ran his fingers down where the Nemean Lion had clawed, finding his own flesh, fully healed by time and nectar.

"A Christmas miracle," Percy whispered.

"What?" Zoë looked at him.

Percy cleared his throat. "Nothing. It's beautiful, though, huh?" He pointed at the sky.

The girl smiled—an honest to goodness smile!—and sat down on her foam mattress. "Yes, it is. Very beautiful indeed."

A short silence fell before Percy said, "I'm sorry about before."

Zoë turned. "About what?"

"Cloudcroft."

"Oh."

"I mean, obviously I didn't mean to take it that far. And when I look back, I see a lot I could have done differently. But when you're in the heat of the moment, fighting life or death, it's just—"

"Difficult to rationalize every single thought," Zoë cut in, not unkindly. "Such is understandable. Conflict tends to draw out the worst in people."

Percy chuckled. "Somehow, you manage to insult me even when you aren't trying."

"What? Insult? I didn't mean to—"

"No problem, princess," Percy sat down next to her. At least now he was level with her eyes. "You know what they say about sticks and stones."

"Yes," Zoë nodded solemnly. "They are dangerous weapons of war that can be used even today when all else fails."

"N-no, that's not what I… y'know what, that's okay. Do you forgive me?"

Zoë twisted her mouth a few times. "I have no right to forgive what was done. I know that isn't a good answer for one seeking penitence, but it is all I can offer."

Percy said, "Well I suppose that's that, then. No point in drowning myself with guilt. Isn't that right, Grover?"

Walking toward them, Grover, Bianca, and Thalia carried bundles of wood from the nearby buildings.

"Huh? What?" Grover set his sticks down. "Did you say something?"

"Just say yes."

"Uh… yes?"

Percy grinned. "I knew you'd always have my back, G-Baby."

"Sure thing, Musk Man."

They shared a laugh while Thalia started a fire with some lightning. Bianca and Zoë brought out freeze-dried fruits, assorted nuts, and beef jerky from their packs. Grover played a soft, carrying melody on his reed pipes while they ate, nothing nearly as bad as many of his other songs. It was still a bit out of tune, though.

When they were done with what could be passed for dinner, Zoë had been pressured—mostly by Bianca and Percy's combined efforts—into telling everyone about her adventures being a handmaiden to Artemis.

Just as she was finishing up her first story about meeting Herodotus, the roar of an engine cut through the otherwise calm night. Down the road, a single headlight burned white.

Percy got to his feet. Time slowed as a motorcycle crept up to their makeshift camp, engine revving every few seconds. The light was like a miniature sun.

Bianca and Zoë already had their bows ready. Thalia gripped her pepper spray. Grover's lips hovered over his pipes, for all the good they would do him if he wanted to use woodland magic. Percy felt helpless.

The motorcycle eventually halted some ten feet from them. A tall figure dismounted, kicked the sidestand down, and walked into the orange glow their fire cast.

His face was scarred. Heavily so. That was the first thing Percy noticed. Next came the stereotypical biker outfit; blue jeans, black riding chaps, black boots, a red muscle shirt, a black leather jacket, and dark sunglasses.

And then came the overwhelming urge to commit some act of violence. Percy suddenly wanted to throw a brick through someone's window. He felt like punching a wall, just to relieve the building angst in his gut.

"Lord Ares," Zoë greeted, her voice clipped. "To what do we owe the… surprise?"

Even though the stranger was now identified, nobody was keen on lowering their weapons.

"Chill. I only came to scout out some talent," Ares said. His grin was downright heinous. "And maybe stir up some trouble."

Thalia squinted at the god. "What talent?"

Ares gave her a quick once-over. "Heard the prodigal child came back to the land of the living, with skin and everything. Guess the rumors were true. Don't you worry your head off, little sister, I ain't talking about you."

"The talent I'm talking about is _him_ ," Ares pointed straight at Percy.

"Flattering, but I'll pass."

"As if you've got a choice, kid," Ares chuckled. "I think you attracted a lot of attention with that stunt in New Mexico. Hell, you got me to pay attention to this little quest you've got going. So props for that."

"I feel so accomplished."

Ares walked forward. Percy took some steps back. The god put himself between Percy and the others.

"No need for sarcasm, kid. Like I said, I just came to get a feel for you. See what you were made of. Can't say I expected a flower child like you to be such a brutal little shit." Ares nodded approvingly. "War and battle require sacrifice! Too many people get it in their heads these days that conflict can be resolved exclusively by violence or pacifism."

Percy wrinkled his nose. He wasn't interested in hearing what a war god's thoughts on fighting were. "What's your point, Ares? Did you only come to talk?"

"Hardly," Ares scoffed. "I came to tell you to get the hell out of my town. Old Eden is a tribute site, one I took as my own once the shootout here ended. Me and my girl were gonna hang out here, but when I felt someone setting up camp, I had to come and tell you to hit the road."

Percy looked around. "What kind of girl would want to come here on a date? Either she has low standards, or you're just a bad boyfriend."

Zoë and Thalia drew lines across their necks as if to say _Bad idea!_ _Stop!_

Ares growled. "Watch your step, punk. The lady isn't as forgiving of rudeness as I am."

"If you got what you came for, then leave," Percy snapped. "We're on a quest trying to help _save Olympus_ if you hadn't heard. Don't you think we deserve at least spending a night in your ghost town?"

He figured talking to the actual god of war this way was a bad idea. Alarm bells rang in his head, reminding him that gods were more powerful than he was. But a roiling haze of anger clouded his better judgment.

"I don't give a rat's ass about this quest." Ares sneered. "Let the war come, I say."

"Even if that means your kids are gonna be fighting on the front lines? I've met Atlas. He could wipe the floor with someone like _you_. Imagine what he would do to your kids."

The god seemed to consider what Percy said. Ares frowned. "I don't fight my kids' battles for them. They're warriors. And I'd like to see that old Titan try and fight me. I'll crush him."

"You're crazy," Percy shook his head. "You aren't taking this seriously. If this is what I can expect from the other gods, we're doomed."

"I'm getting tired of hearing you yap," Ares said. "A warning. This is where your quest ends anyway, Flower Boy. Think hard about how you want to interpret that. Now fuck off."

 **«Black Cut»**

Ares had only snapped his fingers. But the world spun like Tony Hawk doing a sick nine-hundred spin in the 1999 X Games.

Percy fell onto the sandy ground.

When he got up again, Ares was gone. And so was the entirety of Old Eden. Now, there were only piles of junk so tall they made the Erymanthian Boar look like Piglet. Percy looked around. His friends were pulling themselves out of the sand.

"Well… I hate this," Percy said.

Thalia gave him a dry stare. "Yeah, I think we get that."

"How? Why? Discotheque."

Bianca nudged Zoë's arm. "And I thought Dr. Thorn was nuts."

"I'm mad." Percy dusted himself off.

Zoë nudged Bianca back. "I can tell."

"Yeah, I'm platinum mad alright. Can you believe that guy? Doesn't he know what Atlas is capable of?"

Thalia shrugged. "Ares is a younger Olympian. He didn't fight in the original war against the Titans. So maybe he doesn't."

Percy swept his hair to the side. "And what, no one can tell him that Atlas is a certified badass?"

"Perce, man, breathe," Grover tried to calm him down. "Look, Ares has that effect on people. They get all angry and reckless. We need you to stay cool."

Percy let out a long sigh. The red haze from Ares' words and general presence left him. That was good. At least now, he would be able to think straight.

"Do you need me to play some Tchaikovsky for you?"

"No, I think I'm good now." Percy rubbed his eyes. He was tired. "Thanks, G-Baby."

"Anytime, Deep Base Note."

Bianca cleared her throat. "So is nobody gonna mention how Ares was all like ' _this is where your quest ends, Flower Boy_ ' or am I just stupid for worrying about that? Because if I am, please, go ahead and tell me."

Zoë thinned her lips. The moon was bright enough in the junkyard so that Percy could see the concern on her face. "Gods are cryptic. Sometimes it is best to take their advice and put it away for later."

" _One shall be lost in the land without rain_." Thalia sounded like a frog was trying to escape her throat.

Percy looked at everyone. He swallowed a rock and put on a huge smile. He threw both arms around Grover and Zoë's necks, pulling them closer to him. "Positive thoughts, guys! Are all prophecies written in stone? Are they written down at all? Eh?"

Zoë huffed from beside him but didn't try to remove herself from his hold. "The Romans had their Sibylline Books, in which many prophecies were jotted."

Percy groaned. "C'mon, Zoë, I'm trying to do us all a favor here. Why'd you have to ruin a good pep talk?"

"I just state the truth."

"The point is," he lightly jostled Zoë, "we can at least try to change fate. So let's get through this place, find Artemis and Annabeth, free them, and save the world. Let's show the gods, the Titans, and even the Fates that nothing can stop us. We'll find the bane of Olympus, we'll kick Atlas to the curb, we'll make sure the Titan Lord never gets to rise. We're the heroes Bonnie Tyler has been holding out for."

By the closest pile of garbage, Grover sniffled and wiped his eyes. He took a dented gold shield from beside him. "That was beautiful, Percy. Have you taken classes on inspiring people?"

Percy watched as Grover started eating the shield. "No classes. In the industry, we call that natural charisma."

Thalia lifted an eyebrow. "Mhm. Which 'industry' are you talking about?"

"Take your pick. All industries lead to the greater machine of society today. We are all puppets, replaceable parts, throwaway meat in the ocean of life. The government wants us as mindless drones." Percy grinned. "At least, that's what my crack-pot social studies teacher used to say. He was pretty sure that Pearl Harbor was an inside job. So make of that what you will."

"Pearl Harbor…" Bianca rubbed her ribs. She was still wearing the Nemean Lion's disguised pelt. "I remember Pearl Harbor."

"Yeah, basically everybody knows about it here in the States," Percy said.

"No, I mean, I remember when it was announced over the radio. It's not clear, but I remember hearing it. People talked about it on the streets. Italian. They were speaking Italian." Bianca grimaced.

Zoë went to Bianca's side. "How is that possible? Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941. That was more than seventy years ago."

"What?"

Percy bit his lip. "Yeah, B, you couldn't have heard it just after it happened. Maybe you were listening to an old recording or something?"

"No. People were talking about it. I know… I saw newspapers headlining the attack."

"If that's true," Thalia squinted, "then you were alive during World War II. So how…"

"I—I don't know—what does it mean?" Bianca turned desperately to her lieutenant. She looked ready to cry. "What does it mean?"

Zoë gave Bianca a hug. "I don't know. I don't know, but we will find out. First, we should leave this place. It isn't safe."

Bianca nodded, taking deep breaths. "Where are we, anyway?"

Zoë glanced around, scrutinizing some of the junk. "I believe this is Hephaestus' scrapyard. Creations of his that he deemed unfit for practical use. Or perhaps just trinkets that were cursed and tossed aside. Either way, we shouldn't touch anything."

Grover threw the half-eaten shield away. "Now you tell me!"

"How do we find our way out of here? These piles are huge!" Thalia threw her hands up. "Percy, why'd you have to make Ares mad?"

Zoë pointed at the sky, then to their left. "That is Ursa Major. North. So if we go this way, that is west."

"Oh, an astrologist, exc-u-u-se me," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"Um, Thalia, I think you meant _astronomer_. Astrology is, like, horoscopes and stuff" Grover chuckled sheepishly.

"Oh. Well, you got the idea."

"Can we get on our way now?" Percy asked, gesturing with his hands to the west. "I still can't use my power in this place. So the sooner we beat it and get some sleep, the happier I'll be."

"I agree with the scobberlotcher," Zoë said. She nodded at Percy. "Let us depart."

"On that note, once we get out of the desert, I'm buying everyone but Zoë some ice cream. So forward march!"

Bianca saluted. "Aye, _Capitano_."

 **«Black Cut»**

Climbing through heaps of discarded godly metalwork was less fun than Percy would have imagined. And given how large the mounds of junk were, it was inevitable that he and his friends often found something that caught their eye.

"Look at this cool bow!" Bianca said. It shrunk in her hands, becoming a hair clip. She didn't look to be on the verge of a mental breakdown anymore, which was good.

But Percy knew she was still only a few wrong words away. He watched Zoë chide Bianca for thinking of taking the bow. Smiling, he realized she was in good hands even without him being there.

After what felt like several hours, they reached the top of a smaller junk hill and saw a highway lined with lights cutting through the desert. It was maybe a mile or so away. The junkyard only went on for half that distance. A huge rusted gate sat open for them to leave through.

Sitting between them and escape, though, was a final hill, much longer than the rest. It must have been fifty yards long and ten yards tall.

"Those, uh, kinda look like toes," Grover gulped.

"Let's go around," Thalia said.

"Yes, far, far around," Zoë nodded.

They exchanged a look, then started toward the road. On their way down, Percy tripped on the handlebars of a bronze tricycle. He almost fell head-over-heels down the heap of metal. Grover caught him by the arm before that happened.

"Thanks," Percy said, breathing a sigh. He kicked the tricycle. "Looks like Ares was trying to break my neck by using his toys. Think he would appreciate if I brought this back to him?"

Thalia started laughing. "Oh gods, can you imagine him riding into town on that thing? He'd win every fight because the other guys would be too busy making fun of him."

With the mood lightened, they continued. There weren't any more mishaps along the way. They skirted around the bronze toes and eventually made it to the gate. A fence with razor wire on it wrapped around the boundary of Hephaestus' junkyard.

Percy took the first step out. The others followed close behind. "Freedom! Ares can go sit on a popsicle!"

An earthquake almost knocked him to the ground. The sound of grating metal roared. At the same time, the gates, which had been wide open, flung shut, punting everyone back into the junkyard.

Percy rolled to a stop on the sand, staring at the mountainous form as it rose from the long mesa of scrap. A giant bronze humanoid stood up. It had been buried under the garbage, which now rained down from its towering peaks.

The giant was equipped with an old muscle cuirass, vambraces, and greaves. Half of its face was terribly warped, as if a spinning wrecking ball had tried to make cotton candy out of the metal. From its one, good eye, a bright red light honed in on them with pinpoint accuracy.

"Oh, I hate this."

Zoë looked like she was about to be sick. "Talos."

Percy got to his feet. "Who?"

"An automaton. Hephaestus made him to guard Europa on Crete," Thalia said. "But this is too small. A prototype, probably."

From the next hill of scrap, Talos pulled a large xiphos, maybe thirty feet in length. The giant itself must have been about quadruple that height. Even if Percy could have called on his tentacle overlord again—which was frustratingly impossible—Talos would have been taller.

When the sword had been taken, it cleared a bunch of junk off of a small concrete building.

"It must be a defender of this yard. Hephaestus made it to guard these items. Which means someone took something," Zoë was trying to stay calm. Her voice sounded a bit more shrill than usual, though. "Who took something?"

Nobody said anything. Percy shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We need to run!"

Talos raised his sword and took a step forward. It would only take two more paces to reach them.

"Our exit is shut tight!" Thalia kept ramming her shoulder into the metal gates. They didn't budge.

"And I think that razor wire is electrified now!" Grover pointed at the wire, which buzzed.

"Then split!" Percy said as Talos reached down with his hand to grab them.

They did.

Zoë pulled Grover out of the way, saving him from being crushing in Talos' grip.

Thalia had her shield and spear out. She stabbed one of its fingers, cutting into the bronze. With a shout, she fired arcs of blue lightning into Talos' hand.

Talos tried to swat her, but Thalia was already pulling away. She turned and ran to the nearest hill. The automaton swung its sword, almost splattering her across the sandy ground. It just barely missed, but the wind pressure knocked Thalia off her feet.

When Talos went in for the finishing blow, a steady stream of arrows broke against its neck. The giant turned, and some arrows went into the smashed part of its face. Zoë kept firing as she ran, taking potshots and generally keeping Thalia from becoming paste.

Percy and Bianca wound up crouching behind an overturned Humvee.

" _Dio santo_. Gods. Son of a—" Bianca cut herself off. She'd balled her hands into fists, but Percy saw something there.

"You took something?!" he hissed. The world shook when Talos tried to punch Zoë, instead just hitting the ground. "What'd you take?"

"I didn't take anything!" she stuttered. "Nothing!"

Percy grabbed her hand and held it up to eye level. "Bianca! Seriously!"

The moon suddenly disappeared.

"Crap!" Percy tackled Bianca and they tumbled down the mound they were on.

Something sharp stabbed Percy's lower back. He shouted as his nerves caught fire. Becoming susceptible to pain again was always a drawback of reclaiming his authority. Frankly, it sucked.

Talos' fist flattened the Humvee.

Pieces of metal exploded out. A tire nearly decapitated Bianca as it raced by. A long shard of the hood almost cut Percy in half.

"Eat feather, Talos!" Grover screamed, chucking one of his acorns straight at the giant. With a quick sharp note from his pipes, the acorn exploded into a flock of pigeons that quickly set upon Talos' good eye, going for a blind.

Standing, Talos stabbed at Grover. The birds did their job at distracting the giant, throwing its aim way off.

Percy gasped, clutching at his side, where the pain was most intense. Blood slickened his fingers almost instantly. He looked at Bianca.

"What did you _take_?" he croaked. It took all his concentration not to throw up, cry, and scream.

She opened her hand. A small metallic figure sat in her palm. "It was for Nico. He—he doesn't have this one. It's the only god he doesn't have. I just wanted to—"

"You wanted to risk all of our lives for a piece of metal?" Percy groaned, mostly because the agony was making his muscles seize. Struggling, he got to his feet. Everything looked blurry.

"I—I didn't think—" Tears fell from her eyes.

Thalia let loose a bolt of lightning, striking Talos in the center of his chest. The giant staggered back, a blackened spot on its cuirass, but didn't react otherwise. It swung its sword down at her. Though the blade missed, a bunch of dirt, sand, and junk were kicked up. Thalia was caught in the swirl.

Percy strained to make his way to her. Each step was torture.

 _Can't let Chiron down again. Can't let Chiron down again. He'd never forgive me. Never._

He tried to divert attention from Thalia. "Talos! Over here, you pile of junk!" His voice was raspy.

The giant ignored him. It raised its fist.

Percy wheezed and started to run. The weight on his left side fell awkwardly due to his injury. He stumbled and fell through shards of glass, cutting his hands when he caught himself.

The world went black for a second, then burst into a vivid red. His eyes watered as Zoë was buried under a slide of junk. Grover kept throwing acorns, but Talos didn't have a moving target in Thalia.

Talos raised its foot. From where Percy lay, he saw a hole in the automaton's heel. The words EMPLOYEE USE ONLY were painted around the opening.

Bianca reached Percy, panting.

"Are you trying to get yourself _killed_?" she asked, yanking him off the ground. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood.

"On the foot," Percy said, the words coming through tightly gritted teeth. "There's some kind of hole. I'll get inside and smash the circuits or something."

"But… how? It'll crush you if you don't stand in the exact spot!"

"Give me an opportunity, and I can take it!"

"You're crazy!"

Thalia had gotten up and was running again. She stuck close to the giant's feet, making sure not to let it kick her. Still, her plan seemed to work, and Talos could only shamble around in circles trying to kill Thalia.

"Doesn't matter. We can't get out, and even if we could, that thing would outpace us if we ran! Bianca, you've gotta distract it! I'm gonna pull Thalia out of the way."

Bianca stared at him as if he'd just told her there was a little martian-man controlling his brain.

Before Percy took off, she stepped forward. "I'll do it," she said.

"And I thought Dr. Thorn was nuts."

"It's my fault Talos woke up." She held up the small figurine. Her eyes were still wet. Taking his hand in her own, Bianca gave Percy the toy. It was surprisingly heavy. "So it's my job to take care of it. If I don't come back, tell Nico I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving him. And tell him I love him, okay?"

She charged at Talos, keeping good footing even on the ever-shifting junk hill. Percy reached for her. His hand just barely missed her elbow.

"Bianca!"

He watched in horror as his promise started to fall apart. The sight of Bianca reaching Talos' foot prompted him to act. Percy wheezed and sprinted. His jaw couldn't have been any tauter. He stumbled on the scrap metal more than once. But he didn't fall.

"What are you doing?" Zoë shouted at Bianca. Thankfully, she didn't look too bad for having been buried under a ton of metal.

Was this what his mom had warned him about? Was it fate that Bianca would be the one to clamber into Talos? Percy felt sick. If that was the case, would he be able to do anything to stop this from playing out?

Zoë fired several arrows up at Talos.

The metal giant groaned as it stopped chasing Thalia, whirling around to slash at Zoë. The Hunter leaped away, clearing the blast zone when Talos' sword struck the ground.

Percy grimaced. He didn't know if this was that moment of fate. All he knew was that Nico was still counting on him to protect Bianca. And he would be doing a terrible job at that if he let her go through with stopping Talos.

Running full tilt, he grabbed Bianca and heaved her away from the Talos' giant foot. They spun, and Percy threw Bianca aside. He dived after her, feeling the ground shake when Talos stomped down where they had just been.

"What are you doing?" Bianca was shouting at him. She was on her back, glaring up at him fiercely.

Percy held his fist out, then dropped the little statue onto her chest. He stood with a wince. "Give that to Nico yourself when you get back to camp."

"What?" She sat up abruptly.

"I'll stop Talos. You just make sure to stay out of the way, okay?"

"No! Not okay you idiot! You're bleeding, and scratched, and… and…" Bianca's voice and lips quivered. "And you can be there for Nico even if I don't make it!"

"Don't make this all about Nico!" Percy felt like a hypocrite.

"Why are you stopping me if it isn't to keep your promise?"

Percy looked at the giant as it started to chase Grover. The warning Ares had given him ran in his mind. He swallowed the fear. It left an acerbic aftertaste on his tongue, like bile.

If this was where he died, then he would at least try to go out like a hero. People liked heroes, after all. He turned his back to Bianca, at least so she wouldn't see the way his chest rose and fell unevenly.

"This isn't about Nico." Leave it to Bianca to make a liar out of him. "This is about the older generation passing the torch to the younger generation. It's my job to make sure the future is bright, ya feel?"

Yeah, that sounded pretty cool.

"Even though you may be from a different time, to me, you haven't gotten the chance to live yet. I won't let you throw your life away here." Percy straightened at his own monologue. He felt wise.

"It was my fault—"

"And you don't deserve to die because of one mistake!" Percy cut her off. "Not everybody deserves a second chance, but you do. So let this old geezer take the fall for you."

"Percy… please don't do this."

"Promise me that you'll make it through this, Bianca. Promise me that you'll get back to Nico and apologize."

"I—I promise."

Percy forced himself to smile. He turned and winked at her. "I'll hold you to that."

"Then you have to promise me that you're coming back alive!" she shouted.

He smirked and looked at Talos again. "No can do, Bianca."

And with that, he ran. The giant had lost the tip of its big toe. Thalia was trying to cut more pieces off but wasn't getting far.

Each time Talos looked down at Thalia, either Zoë or Grover did something to distract it. During one of those moments, Percy reached Thalia and dragged her away. Up close, he saw she was bleeding heavily from her left leg.

"What's going on?" Thalia asked as they hid behind a refrigerator.

He told her about the opening in Talos' foot. "I'm going in. Hopefully, I can find, like, a control panel or something in his head. If not, I'll do as much damage as possible."

"How are you getting out?" she asked.

"Uh, I'll improvise?"

Thalia shook her head. "No way. There's gotta be something else we can do."

"We can't outrun it. We've barely made a scratch. Most of us are bleeding to death. I don't think that thing is gonna get tired. Thalia, this is the best choice."

"I hate it when other people are right!" she growled. Her eyes bore into him. "You'd better not die."

Percy breathed a sigh. "Thalia, save Annabeth, alright?"

"You don't have to even ask."

"Good. Then distract that thing, and I'll get it out of our hair."

Thalia scowled. "I hate this."

Percy chuckled dryly. The pain he felt started to dull. Maybe knowing he was seconds from death helped his tolerance. "Make sure you tell everyone how cool and heroic I was. People like heroes."

"Tell them yourself."

"Oh, and a statue. I want a statue in my honor. Fifteen feet tall at least.

They grinned shakily at each other and split up. Percy shivered when Talos spotted him. The unflinching red eye locked on his form. The xiphos poised for a stab.

Before Talos could attack, a massive bolt of lighting hit its shoulder. The giant stumbled. Percy pushed his muscles harder, tracking the hole as Talos stepped back. As the foot descended on him, the faintest of orange lights shined down from the maintenance hatch.

Gulping, Percy stopped moving just as Talos stepped down. The world shook. His ears rang. Around him, the glow of an orange bulb affixed to the inner part of Talos' foot let Percy see rungs of a ladder.

He grabbed hold and started to climb. His hands stung from the glass. The blood on them made it hard to get a solid grip. But knowing his friends were outside, relying on him, gave Percy enough stomach to ignore his desire to stop.

Each time the giant moved, he heard the groaning echo in its metallic body, and felt his gut twist as he was jostled. Creaks and squeaks ran down the tunnel he was in. Lights were placed every twenty or so feet apart. He saw a line of wires running on the opposite side of where he climbed, but couldn't reach them. If he tried, he would have to keep holding onto a rung with only one, wet, injured hand. No, that would be a bad idea.

Percy looked up. Given how long the rungs seemed to run for, he decided to kill some time and take his mind off the burning question in his mind.

He put as much soul as he could into the song. "I give my life, not for honor, but for you. In my time, there'll be no one else…" He frowned. "Wait, how does the rest of it go?"

Before he remembered the lyrics, he reached the top of the ladder. Pulling himself up, Percy figured he'd made it somewhere into the giant's lower torso. His arms and legs were blazing with fire and needles.

Around him was a jungle of wiring. Cables hung from the bronze walls, stringing down from even further above. He couldn't see the top of the room he was in.

Percy moved through the thicket of cords, pushing them out of the way as he walked through the room. He saw something at the other end of the room. It was a box attached to the wall. Above the case was a red sign which said BREAK IN EVENT OF MALFUNCTION.

Though it was suspiciously convenient, Percy figured he didn't have another choice. If it was a self-destruct button, at least he would go out like a complete badass. The thought reassured him a little that his decision was fine.

 _I should have written a will or something._

He reached the case. Inside was a lever and some kind of plaque. Gulping, he punched through the glass, wincing as the skin of his knuckles split. The plaque told him that the lever was one of two he'd need to pull for Talos to shut down. The other was inside its head. Apparently, the giant would then—yup, he'd guessed it—self-destruct. Who would even design something like this? Hephaestus had some serious problems.

"Great! Multi-step problems are my favorite."

Percy pulled the lever. The sign above his head turned green. He looked around and found another ladder leading further up.

Before he could start climbing, a blaring baritone voice sounded.

"WARNING! CEASE AND DESIST. THIS CONSTRUCT WAS COMMISSIONED BY ZEUS, KING OF THE GODS. WARNING!"

The message kept replaying. It pounded in his head with every rung he cleared on the last ladder. Inside the automaton was sweltering. His throat felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton swabs. His nostrils caught fire each time he breathed in. Sweat glued his shirt and pants to his skin.

Halfway up the ladder, the room tilted. Talos must have been shifting. Percy felt his legs slip. His hands couldn't keep their hold, and he was thrown clean off the metal bars. He fell into a bundle of rubber cables, barely able to wrap his arms around a few before he plummeted forty feet to the ground.

Then, a massive fist came through the wall closest to him, breaking that section of the ladder. Glass from the lights there peppered him. Talos had punched into its own body. It must have known someone got inside and was trying to shut it off.

Pieces of metal fell from the automaton's torso. The hole in its body let Percy see Grover carrying Thalia away. He could see a pipe had gone through her left leg.

Large bronze fingers poked through the hole. They reached for him, careful not to destroy any of the wires that were in their way. Percy groaned and lifted his lower body up, getting his feet on top of the giant's middle finger. He hobbled across the back of Talos' hand and jumped, grabbing onto the ladder's remaining rungs.

He couldn't afford to waste time. Panting, he clambered up the rungs as fast as he could. The only thing he could hear was a high-pitched whine. His eyes focused on the very last rung. He felt chills spread across his arms.

Once he was up to the top, Percy heaved his body over the edge. He could see a bit out of the ruined section of Talos' face. There was some kind of console off to his right.

What caught his attention was the bright red warning sign above a glass box. Running to it, he rammed his shoulder into the case.

The giant shifted again, and Percy almost slid away. He latched his fingers into the bottom of the case, cursing long and hard when glass cut into his palm.

Whipping his other arm forward, he grabbed the lever, then yanked it down.

The light changed from red to green. The baritone message stopped, then resumed with a different message.

"DEFENSE CONSTRUCT NUMBER 3 SELF-DESTRUCT ACTIVATED. PLEASE ASSUME DIVINE FORM AND TELEPORT AWAY WITHIN FIVE SECONDS."

Percy laughed ruefully. Of course the machine was built with gods in mind and not mortals. That was just his luck. He planted his back on the wall, shivering. His arms and legs wouldn't stop shaking.

"Mom, if you're listening, please, _please_ , throw Hephaestus off Olympus like Zeus did. Guy's a dick."

Hopefully, Talos wouldn't explode and kill his friends. And from where he was, it wasn't like he could warn them to run at this point. All he could do was slide down the wall. His legs had gone numb. So had his fingers.

There wasn't a countdown.

Well, none that he could hear. But he did feel when gravity decided to take a vacation. The last thing Percy saw through Talos' face was a flat top of concrete rushing to meet him.

"Oh, I hate this."

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 **A/N: Um... expect canon divergence? Did I already mention that? Well, I have now. Oh, and don't you worry your wonderful heads off, dear readers. There will be character deaths.**

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 _ **Review Response-**_

 **Malosi06- All of your questions will be answered, my friend. In due time.**

 **Superkami God- Well you certainly aren't wrong in finding that specific theme. Though its actually on a smaller scale than the general ideas of order and chaos. And that theme feeds into the overall theme that I'm going for, which was partially introduced in the very first section of the story, and then reinforced at the end of chapter 1. Sex life has been dry since the semester ended. Why you'd ask? Does it show in my writing? That'd be awkward.**


	10. Lies Heroes Must Tell

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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10\. Lies Heroes Must Tell

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Percy woke up from a fitful rest to the sound of metal sliding down rock. His eyes opened slowly despite the noise.

The first thing he saw was a fire. And sitting on a log by the popping flames, a person sharpening his blade.

Groaning, Percy tried to sit up. A flood of nausea stopped him cold. His mouth went sour, his palms grew clammy, and the area behind his eyes throbbed.

"Take it easy there," the man said. There was no rush in his tone. He sounded perfectly calm. "You took a nasty beating in that river. If I hadn't pulled you out… well, you'd be a bit further down than where we are now."

Percy coughed. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

The man got off the log, stepping over a lit lantern. He crouched by Percy. "Here, drink some of this. It'll help… with thirst and pain."

He lifted Percy's head a bit and uncapped a canteen. "Don't expect nectar. I've already given you plenty of ambrosia. Any more divine food and you'd become… a little more than crispy."

Percy drank. He wouldn't have cared even if it was poisoned. A repugnant porridge drowned his tongue in something that was too sweet, too salty, too bitter, and too spicy all at once. It tasted like a week-old fish taco left outside in the summer. The mouthful worked its way down his throat like a glacier. Slow and painful. Percy trembled and fought the turning in his stomach.

"That stuff—it's terrible," he mumbled.

"Glad to hear it," the man said. "It's supposed to be bad. Don't want people getting hurt just for a taste. Not that I'd let them have any."

Percy took the chance to examine him. The guy must have been around forty or fifty, sporting noticeable wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. His short gray hair, silvery stubble, and posture seemed to reinforce that age.

"Where are we?" asked Percy.

"A cave."

Though vague, the answer wasn't wrong. Percy saw rock walls curving upward toward a ceiling maybe thirty feet above. He could hear running water someplace far off.

Feeling better, he sat up.

"That's not a great idea," the man capped his canteen.

"I know."

"Kids these days…"

Percy was stiff. His body throbbed with every pulse of his heart. The blood pounded in his veins. Still, he wasn't in much pain. To test his flexibility, he twisted his torso from side to side.

 _Not bad._

Percy looked around. "So, uh, what happened exactly? Who—who are you? And what cave?"

"One at a time then," the man pointed to the left with his knife, where their cave dipped to become a rather narrow tunnel. "I was hiking these caves when I heard an explosion down that way. It was you... bursting in with the front of some piece of metal. Right through the ceiling. You got lucky. Some roots softened your fall, catching the mess of metal and tangling it up, though you still fell into the river. You must have come from above ground."

"Oh sure, I'm feeling really lucky." Percy rolled his eyes. "What happened next?"

"I pulled you out of the river and brought you over. I already had a fire going, so again, lucky you."

Percy frowned, a realization drawn. "Wait, you know about nectar and ambrosia, which means you know—"

"About the gods? About… monsters? About… half-bloods? Why yes, I do. I'm a half-blood myself. And I suppose that leads to your second question," the man dragged a rounded stone over his knife. He tapped the rock against his temple twice. "I'm Quintus."

"Quintus? Well, thanks for saving me, Quintus."

"No problem," Quintus shrugged, smiling. "As for your last question, I'm not sure what to tell you. We're in an unexplored cave system in Skamania County."

Percy scratched his head. "Huh. Okay. Is that close to Old Eden?"

"Old Eden? As in Old Eden, Arizona? By Hephaestus' yard?"

"You know it?"

Quintus nodded. "Yes. And I'm afraid that I have bad news for you."

"Of course you do," Percy sighed. "Alright, hit me with it."

"You aren't in Arizona. You're in Washington; beneath Mount St. Helens."

Percy's head snapped up. "What?"

"Washington. Beneath Mount St. Helens."

"Oh. Well, crap."

"Not what you expected?"

"No."

Quintus hummed. "How did you end up in this situation?"

"I'm—oh man, I'm supposed to be on a quest!" Percy got up. His breathing was shallow, and his body felt heavier than when he'd been sitting. "I have to get back to my friends."

"What kind of… quest?" Quintus asked, eyes growing sharper at their edges. He still sat on his haunches, only tilting his head back to show his interest. The knife waved menacingly in his loose grip, pretending to be unassuming.

Percy slowly leaned away. "We're trying to free Artemis."

"Oh? She was captured? Who did it? Another god trying to… seduce her?"

Percy looked around. "Atlas. He got free and caught Artemis. But Atlas is working under Kro—uh… " The sensation of a blade running over his spine caught that name before it rolled off his tongue. "He's working under the Titan King, who's trying to get hold of the bane of Olympus."

Quintus must have played a mean game of poker. He barely looked surprised. "I… see. So that's how it is."

"Right. We need to rescue Artemis so she can hunt the monster. She might be the only one who could do it."

"Yes, that makes sense."

"So I need to get back to them and help!"

"And your return was prophesied?" Quintus asked.

Percy stared at the man. "What?"

"In the prophecy you… must have received for such an… important quest," Quintus put his knife in a holster by his hip. He stood up and threw handfuls of sand on the fire. "Since you seem adamant, I assume your return was… hm… mentioned. You want to make sure fate is upheld."

Percy balked. "I—I mean—no that's not it."

Now, Quintus seemed surprised. "Then… what was the wording of your prophecy?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Need to know? No. Want to know? Yes. It's in my nature, I suppose. Curiosity. No matter how old I get, it would appear I still like… solving puzzles."

Percy didn't see a big problem, so he told Quintus word for word.

"So you've been... separated from your group. Judging by what you said earlier, it was in Arizona," Quintus nodded to himself. "You were the one lost in the land without rain. That means… yes, yes… your role in the quest may well be over."

"That's a bad joke," Percy frowned.

"It's just an observation," Quintus shrugged. "After all, it never tells of you coming back to… hm… aid your friends. Maybe you were supposed to die? Or was this always how fate was meant to play out? Your arrival in Washington, I mean. Interesting."

"Oh yeah, very interesting. How did I even end up here? _Washington_?"

"That's easy. You came from Hephaestus' scrapyard. I happen to know of an entrance to the Labyrinth there. An old bunker. You must have gone through. Probably exited further up the mountain. It is… strange that our paths should cross. Mysterious ways indeed."

"Okay, I have questions about that, but I'm gonna ask those later." Percy looked at his watch and whistled. "Almost dawn. How am I healed?"

"I've studied medicine extensively. I was a doctor once. A long… long time ago. I studied under Asclepius for a few months… but we had a falling out and went our separate ways. Still, I would like to think my remedy is second only to the Physician's Cure." Quintus tapped his temple twice. "Plus, your injuries weren't that bad. I've dealt with much, _much_ worse."

"Let's slow that roll," Percy held up his hands. "Asclepius is the doctor, right?"

"Yes. A god of healing and medicine, much like his father, Apollo, although I believe Asclepius took his job more seriously. Of course, he was a demigod before becoming a god. Like us. But he was... _promoted_."

"Okay. And the Physician's Cure is some kind of prescription or can I get it over-the-counter?"

"The Physician's Cure is Asclepius' greatest creation. He himself would... claim his daughters and the advancement of medicine to humanity contended for worthy achievements, but I... respectfully disagree." Quintus took the lantern and twisted a dial on the side, cranking up the light's intensity to compensate for their dying fire. He tapped his temple twice.

"Did you help him make it?"

"Hardly. By the time I came to be his disciple he'd already been _deified_ and had invented the Physician's Cure. He was immortal already."

Percy nodded. "But you have your own version."

"The one I used on you. I did try to replicate Asclepius' work to the last detail, but unfortunately, he has a talent for healing that I simply don't." The glow from the lantern cast Quintus' shadow long on the rocky wall. "I was hoping to prevent death, not to reverse it. My mentor didn't think it was a 'good idea'. As if he had any right telling me that. But gods often think themselves our judges. Asclepius is no different. Lording himself as a humble braggart. Our arguments only distracted me from my research and trials."

Running his hands over where he remembered being injured, Percy said, "Well your remedy is great. I don't hurt. For only a few hours after fighting a giant robot, that's pretty good. And my hands aren't too scarred or anything."

Quintus sighed. "The remedy is good… but not perfect. You'll start feeling the effects wear off. Refrain from extremely strenuous activity, I would normally recommend."

"Hey, I'm alive and not in crippling pain; that's a win in my book," Percy shrugged. "Seriously, thanks. If there's ever anything you need, just ask."

"Ah, now that you say that, I suppose I could use your help."

Percy twisted his lips. He had been offering out of obligation, hoping Quintus wouldn't have tried to cash in. "Alright, shoot."

Quintus smiled, a wry expression carving his face. "The remedy I use is potent, as you know, and takes time to create. Above that, the ingredients are some of the rarest herbs, ichors, and… organic material the world over."

"Oh. _Oh!_ You need me to pay so you can get more?" Percy asked. He pulled out his wallet, which was soaked. That was disappointing, though Quintus told him he'd fallen into a river. "How much—?"

The man shook his head, quickly pushing the wallet away. "I don't want your money. Keep it… buy yourself some new clothes. What I want is for you to take care of a problem. Play janitor, if you will."

Percy stowed his wallet and cocked his head, suddenly annoyed at his time being taken. Money, he had. But time wasn't something he could buy. "How so?"

"Recently, someone has been stirring up trouble in Sammamish, about a hundred miles north of here."

"Sammamish?" Percy frowned. Wasn't there something in the news about that? He remembered hearing about it. "Oh, right, the murders."

Quintus hummed. "Yes. Although, a better term might be… 'sacrifices'."

"Ominous! But what do you want me to do about it?" Percy crossed his arms.

"To stop it, of course. I would, but I'm quite invested in keeping tabs on Mount St. Helens. Good thing a capable young demigod came at just the right time."

Percy squinted. "Do you actually care about the people dying?"

"Do you?" Quintus shot back.

"I'm not the one asking someone else to solve the problem."

"And I'm not the one who offered their assistance to a complete stranger."

"I was being nice. It's what people do."

Quintus smiled. "So am I. After all, I didn't _have_ to heal you. And certainly, I could leave the residents of Sammamish to… deal with the issue on their own. But they don't know about the world you and I inhabit. _We_ are their… hm… best hope for stopping the deaths of their friends and family."

"So this isn't a normal problem. It's supernatural."

"Beyond the Mist, yes."

Percy flicked his wrist a few times. "And how, exactly, do you expect me to do this? I can't go door to door looking for clues. I want to get back to my friends as soon as possible."

"Do you know where your friends are at the moment?" Quintus asked.

"N—not exactly."

Quintus smirked and fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a single silver coin.

"A drachma?" Percy picked at the nail of his thumb. "Okay, I'll bite. What's that for? We going to an arcade? I'll have you know, I'm a god at Galaga. Pretty good at Ms. Pacman, too."

"Has nobody told you how to use these for Iris-messaging?"

Percy furrowed his brow. "I've heard of it. But I don't know the details."

"Well," Quintus flipped the coin with his fingers a few times, "toss this into a rainbow… and ask the goddess Iris very politely to show you a particular person or location. You'll get a direct line of communication with picture and audio. Very useful for demigods… since they can't use phones."

"Woah." Percy stared at the drachma. So that was how Grover contacted Annabeth and Thalia when he was at Westover.

"If you agree to help me, I'll hand it over. Then you can call your friends, tell them you're still alive, and plan to meet up. There... how does that sound?"

Percy clicked his tongue. The offer was good. At least he could tell his friends to hold out for him. He'd find a way back to them. "Okay, fine. Deal."

Quintus smiled. "Good! Now I… hm… never expected you to find the culprit of those sacrifices without help. As I've heard… there is a group which may help in your endeavor."

Percy mimicked the smile. "Sounds like a plan. Where do I find these guys?"

"Shouldn't be very hard. Find Amazon headquarters in Seattle and… tell them you want to help. Mention me. I use… hm… I do business with them often."

"Do you get free shipping on items for each person you recommend?"

Quintus chuckled. "Oh, they are gonna love you there."

Percy scratched his head. "So how am I getting to Seattle?"

The man nodded and gestured to the other side of the cave. "The fastest way. Through here. Shouldn't take more than thirty minutes." Quintus dimmed the lantern's light a hair. "We're entering the Labyrinth."

 **«Dark Cut»**

Quintus walked ahead, holding the lantern high so they could see. "It should be around here somewhere," he muttered. His fingers ran along the cave's wall. When they passed over a smoother section, the pattern of a triangle shot to life with bright blue light.

The once smooth rock face shuddered. Then, as if a breeze had rolled by and swept away a cloud of dirt, part of the wall disappeared.

"So I may not know a lot of things," Percy said as he followed Quintus past the vanishing wall, "but wasn't the Labyrinth in Greece? And that was a long time ago."

"Just like many other things of our world, when the gods transf— _hm_ … moved to the United States, so too did the Labyrinth."

They pressed forward, the sand beneath their feet turning to smooth stone. The walls morphed from crude, natural rock to red brick masonry. Percy looked back, but couldn't see where they'd entered the tunnel from. Very creepy. He stepped a bit closer to the lantern.

"Isn't the Labyrinth supposed to be a maze? To keep the Minotaur from escaping, right? How are we gonna get through it? How's it gonna take us to Seattle?"

Quintus grunted. "I know my way around the Labyrinth well enough. We'll be there faster… hm… _sooner_ than you'd expect."

Percy nodded. While Quintus was an odd, rather mysterious guy, he seemed to be a decent enough person. Though, there were a few things Percy thought he could work on. His people skills, for example. Quintus didn't come across as relaxed. Was their conversation really so draining? Or was he just an introvert?

"I noticed… you don't… hm… have a good weapon like mine," Quintus said. He tapped his temple twice. "Not very wise as a demigod. You're just asking to die."

"Hey, I don't have anything that can transform on command like my friends. It'd be a pain to lug around a sword on my hip across the country." Percy sighed. "And it wasn't like I could've gotten one anyway. The armory at camp is locked up tight. I was in a hurry when I left."

"You're a swordsman?"

"Hardly. That's just the kind of weapon I was given to start. Never bothered trying anything else. Though maybe…" Percy recalled the times on his quest where a sword might have been useful. The thought of his friends out there made him pause. He hoped they were safe.

"With that attitude, I'm surprised you're still alive. Hm, you must be a child of the Big Three. I know they broke their oath."

Percy, subdued by his distractions, barely heard the question. He replied, "Persephone. My mother."

Quintus slowed. He glanced back. "Really? Interesting… interesting… so the roots that caught you... I see. Well, regardless, you have the arrogance of a spawn of the Big Three."

"That so?"

"No response to the 'arrogance' part?"

"I'm not too worried about it. Sticks and stones may break my bones."

"But nectar and ambrosia can always heal me," Quintus finished.

Percy stared at the swinging lantern. "I like that. Mind if I borrow it for the future? Get some cheap laughs."

"Please give credit where it's due."

Their forced conversation died when Quintus stopped walking. He fumbled with the dial, twisting until it clicked off. The light left.

Percy was left full submerged in inky darkness. His head spun from the sudden change. His body was seized by dread. It was like a punch to the gut, and he wanted to start running.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask Quintus what was happening, a noise from further down the tunnel reached him. Voices, Percy realized.

"Up ahead is a junction," whispered Quintus. "To reach Seattle, we have to take the path furthest to the left."

Percy strained his ears. "Are those monsters?"

"Yes. From the sibilant pronunciation I hear… hm… I'm assuming dracaenae."

"What?"

"Serpent women. Their lower body's like a snake's, and the upper resembles a… human."

Right, like those monsters that had been with the General, Percy recalled. "Gotcha. How're we gonna do this?"

"Can you fight?"

Percy pursed his lips. During his time spent walking with Quintus, he hadn't felt plants in or around the tunnel. There weren't roots beneath him. And even though there was earth untainted by death, it wasn't soil. It was cold rock. He couldn't grow anything from solid rock. It didn't have any concept of giving life. His daughter wouldn't be coming to save him if he got into trouble.

Still, he was a demigod, and demigods were innate warriors. That's what Chiron told him on the tour.

"Yeah, I can fight." He coughed quietly. "Not in the dark, though."

Quintus backed them up some paces. He grabbed Percy's hand and put something in his palm. "My dagger. Celestial bronze KM2000. You know the Germans always make good stuff. Though, I improved on the… metalwork for this one."

Two taps on his temple later, and Quintus rolled his head from side to side.

"Uh, thanks. But what about you?"

"They'll probably have something I can take."

"Veto. That's a terrible plan."

"You have no veto power down here. I can handle myself. I need _you_ alive. After all... I'm not the one going to Sammamish."

Percy felt the hard plastic sheath. His fingers reached the dagger's pommel, trailed up to the ergonomic handle, and pulled the knife loose.

He hadn't noticed before, but the blade was indeed made of celestial bronze, and cast a dim glow. It was maybe eleven inches long, the blade making up half that length.

Only one part of the knife was sharpened, and near the pommel on that side was a serrated section. The other side was thicker. Eventually, the blade tapered from the cutting edge up to meet the spine, leaving an intimidating tip at the end.

Percy slid the knife back into its sheath and fumbled to clip it to the waist of his jeans. "Why don't we just wait for them to pass by?"

"Too late," Quintus whispered. "On my mark."

Percy wanted to ask what kind of mark. But he kept his mouth shut and gripped the knife's handle.

"I know I tasted something down this way," a voice hissed. "And I saw a light!"

"We're wasting our time," someone else hissed.

"No! Can't you taste the air? Rotting meat! Tasty, tasty rotting meat," the first voice sang giddily. "Maybe a demigod died down here? You don't know with the Labyrinth."

The sound of scratching and scraping along the paved floor drew closer. Percy could make out the shape of a pair of glowing tridents. The green, scaly faces of two dracanae came into view. Their celestial bronze weapons didn't cast enough light to reach where Quintus and Percy crouched, but the dracanae were getting closer.

Once they were some twenty feet away, Quintus bolted forward. Percy took that as his signal and followed a few steps behind.

The dracaenae hissed in surprised and focused on Quintus since he was up front, trying to sweep him off his feet with their tridents. Despite his age, the man moved like a well-oiled machine. He hopped over one trident when it swept low and spun past the other when it reached for his chest.

Percy drew the knife, alerting the monster closest to him. She tried to rear back. The twin snake trunks didn't make that easy. When she nearly fell, the dracaena swung her trident down like a baseball bat. Percy dodged and jammed the knife under her chin.

He grabbed the trident before it fell from the monster's dissolving hands.

Turning, he saw Quintus already standing over a pile of glowing dust. Percy whistled. Color him impressed; Quintus was a badass.

"There's more up ahead," the man said. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

 **«White Cut»**

Percy kicked the shaft of a spear away. He drove the knife into his opponent's throat, drawing a line across her neck. Black blood coated his hand as the monster dropped.

Letting go of a breath, he looked around the circular junction. Five archways signaled five different directions to go. Good thing he had a guide.

They made a good team. At least, Percy would have liked to say that. And looking at the aftermath, anybody might have agreed. There were small mounds of dust scattered every few feet, the remains of all the monsters that had fallen to their combined attack.

But really, Quintus was the one who'd killed most of the dracaenae. Once he'd gotten his hands on a sword, he became a cyclone of movement. His feints and parries were perfect. His ripostes were fatal. It was actually a bit scary, even in short glimpses.

On the other hand, Percy managed to kill two out of the twelve monsters that were gathered. Respectable, in his mind, if still lacking to pull his own weight. Especially since Quintus had been their main focus for most of the skirmish. Percy had taken two by surprise, which gave him two easy kills. But now he understood what Quintus said before. The remedy's effects were coming to an end, and Percy felt his whole body ache. A lot of it was in his lower back, though his hands stung fiercely too.

"Down that hall, you'll find a door that leads to Seattle. If I remember… the basement of an REI store." Quintus wasn't even breathing hard. His voice almost sounded unnatural. He didn't have a scratch on him.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "What's REI?"

"Outdoor supply store. It's where I got these pants, actually. Good stuff, you should check them out while your there." The man motioned to his pair of olive green cargo pants. "Oh, and the shoes." He shook his hiking boots.

Percy looked down at his own clothing. His jacket and shirt were ripped and dirty. His pants still had the long tears from where the Nemean Lion scratched. His shoes had holes, probably because of all that scrap metal he'd been running over. Only his watch was in excellent condition.

He glanced at the tunnel to Seattle, shivering at the warm monster blood dripping from his fingers. "So, uh, how is Amazon supposed to help me?"

Quintus chuckled. He tapped his temple twice. "You'll find out. I don't want to ruin the surprise."

Percy took a step back, wiping the blood on a wall. "Right. Anyway, you promised me that drachma."

"Here. Go wild. Should warn you, Iris has some pretty spotty connection in the Labyrinth. Messaging is typically hit or miss, though mostly it's miss."

The coin flipped through the air, landing in Percy's waiting palm. He put it away and held out the knife.

Quintus took one look. He shrugged. "Keep it. I have plenty more where that came from. Better ones, too."

"Are you sure?" Percy bobbed the dagger back and forth.

"I am sure. I'd feel guilty otherwise."

Percy put the sheath and holster back on his waist. "Alright then. Thanks. I guess this is where we part ways."

Quintus nodded. "It is. I still have a few things to take care of around Mount St. Helens, and this part of the Labyrinth typically stays in the area. Unfortunately, the spirits of the Underworld have been agitated ever since those murders started. And there is one spirit in particular who would very much like to put me in the Fields of Punishment for eternity."

"Jeez, what'd you do, kill him?" Percy tried to chuckle through his nose. His small smile slowly fell off when an unsettling silence settled on them. The lantern was on again, its steady yellow light painting the stone an ugly color. Soft shadows turned solid.

"He… brought his… hm… _fate_ upon himself," Quintus finally said. He tapped his temple twice. "Sometimes it's better to give up than see something through to the end. He should've known better. I didn't kill him. No. He did want me dead, though. It just so happened he died first. Very unfortunate."

Percy swallowed his tongue. The man's words were still collected, but there was definitely a dangerous edge in his voice. Whatever happened between Quintus and that ghost must have been pretty awful, no doubt better left alone.

"Right. So, I'll just, like, get going. Amazon. Ask for help. Cool."

"Good idea," Quintus nodded. His face had grown heavy. In the lantern's light, each line looked to be a trench carved by time. He turned and walked to the archway furthest from the path to Seattle, taking the strong light with him. "I hope I don't regret saving your life. And send my regards when you finally get rid of that pest."

Frowning, Percy watched Quintus leave the junction. Eventually, the lantern's shine was lost in the stretched road he'd taken. Gulping at the darkness, Percy quickly drew his dagger and held it in front of him. With his destination in mind, he pressed on alone, more than ready for breakfast and a warm bath.

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 **A/N: Congratulations, I played myself. This chapter is not the one I'd originally planned to write. Not only shorter, but also in terms of substance. Quite different. Anyway! Quintus; the man, the myth, the legend. Or rather, proto-Quintus with a speech impediment. He's a neat dude with lingering resentment. "But then again, who isn't?" I ask as I remember that one time in elementary school. That aside, thanks for reading.**

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 _ **Review Response-**_

 _ **Guest 1: Sounds about right.**_

 _ **Guest 2: Thanks.**_

 _ **Guest 3: Oof. I played myself again. The wound may never heal. But you're my favorite customer.**_

 _ **Malosi06: Apparently that interaction was the highlight. Good thing I did it justice. Thanks for the feedback.**_

 _ **Guest: I'll do my best.**_


	11. Heretic Hero

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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11\. Heretic Hero

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An elevator.

An elevator?

 _Yeah, it's an elevator._

Percy stared at the silver sliding doors. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure he hadn't taken a wrong turn on the single lane tunnel, even when he knew it wasn't possible to have gone wrong, so he looked back at the doors, both pretending to belong in some dingy place like the Labyrinth instead of above ground in some upscale hotel. He stared, suspicious, at the innocuously dressed placard above the elevator, which stood out only because of the letters REI emblazoned on it.

Next to the doors was a call button, with only one arrow pointing up. At least he wasn't given a choice to descend further. Percy wasn't a fan of being underground. Even worse was when he went underground and the only light he had barely illuminated ten feet in front of him. Besides, what could be further down? The Underworld? Hell? Did hell even exist? Hopefully not. What could be worse than an underground place with fire burning all around? Nothing. Nothing except going to a fast-food joint at 2 a.m. with a serious case of midnight hunger pangs, only to find out the restaurant closed earlier that night. That was true suffering.

Percy pushed the elevator's call button more times than necessary. Sure, he was usually averse to getting into strange elevators, but just this once, he'd make an exception.

Thankfully, it didn't make him wait. The doors opened with a cheery _ping_. Percy hurried inside, where harsh white light made him squint while his eyes adjusted. Before he'd gotten a chance to settle in, the doors slipped shut and, without warning, the elevator began to climb. His stomach, unsettled from Quintus' remedy and rumbling with ambient hunger, dropped into his legs as he fought to stand upright.

The ride up was far from smooth. Heavy jolts to the elevator car made the light flicker and sent Percy stumbling from one side to the other. Screeching filled the room, building and building in volume, the noise of metal scraping against metal.

And just as suddenly as it started, the sound cut away to a faint thrumming. The elevator slowed. His stomach did a high jump back into place. He cautiously uncurled his fingers from the handrail he'd latched on to.

When the car finally— _thankfully_ —stopped moving, the doors _pinged_ again, sliding open. He hustled out, bracing himself against a nearby stone pillar when his knees tried to opt out of their responsibility. As he took his first deep breath of fresh air, the overwhelming weight of nature's presence filled his lungs.

He clamped down on the feeling, recalling Cloudcroft and the essence of Pan's power. But when nature didn't press against him, choosing instead to nurture him, he softened his guard and allowed the vegetation its due.

Unlike Cloudcroft, the nature around him wasn't wild. It didn't try to fight him when he tentatively reached out to prod at it. Almost like the Pillsbury Doughboy, the vegetation seemed to giggle at his poking. He let go of a sigh.

Percy checked around. He could hear cars and smell gasoline, enough to remind him of Manhattan. A set of concrete stairs twisted up just in front of him, with a sign that said STORE THIS WAY in small print. Behind him were a pair of elevators, one of which he'd taken up from the Labyrinth. To his left was an even larger sign pointing to a parking basement. Between some shrubs he saw cars driving along at a snail's pace.

Taking a look at his clothes again, Percy begrudgingly started up the stairs. It was only once he reached two floors up that he noticed how bright things seemed. He checked his watch and adjusted the crown to make up for the time zone difference. But all that did was confuse him more. Taking his phone out, he groaned when the screen stayed dark after he pressed the power button. Either the battery was dead, or the water damage had done it in. He was pissed nonetheless.

"Excuse me," Percy quickly caught the attention of someone coming down the stairs. "Could you tell me the time? Looks like I'll need to take my watch in to get repaired."

The woman pulled out her phone. "Sure thing!" She turned the screen for him to see.

9:30 a.m.

Percy sucked in a breath. He thanked the woman and kept climbing until he reached the top of the staircase.

It didn't make sense. When he'd last checked his watch in the Labyrinth the time was just before 7:00 a.m. He couldn't have taken so long underground. After he split away from Quintus, the tunnel he'd gone down must have been a half a mile long at most.

So then how as it already so late into the morning? He didn't know.

"Hey, c'mon man, stop blocking the stairs," someone said from behind him.

Apologizing, Percy moved out of the way, leaning on a railing to get his bearings. The entrance to the REI was just across the wide walkway he stood on. Pillars of red-brown wood mixed with metal pipes supported the mish-mash of beams and sheet metal that made up the roof. Large analog clocks were suspended from the posts, giving him the same time as the woman's phone.

Over the railing was some kind of miniature hiking trail. A small section of thick brush obscured the path behind evergreen shrubs. There was a creek running into an artificial pond right below him, full of moss-covered rocks. Christmas lights wrapped around a few bare trees.

It was raining, the sky filled with clouds.

He breathed deeply again. Now that he was away from the road, most of what he smelled was petrichor: the scent of rain on soil. Some water splashed on him when the wind whipped droplets into a sideways drive, forcing him to squint against the small pellets while they pounded his face.

Percy stepped away and moved to the entrance, admiring the large, fresh wreaths on either side of the doors. He raised his eyebrows at the store's generous, open design once he'd entered.

 _They really like using wood_. Percy noted the rustic and "natural" vibe going on. Sure, the lights were bright and absolutely abrasive when his eyes wandered too close, but it really gave an impression of cleanliness. And while this wasn't the biggest store he'd ever been inside, it impressed him, since there was an actual climbing wall reaching maybe seventy feet tall. Plenty of people wandered around the racks of clothing. The drone of conversation drowned the quiet music in the background.

 _Okay. Let's see. New clothes. Shirt, shoes, pants. Hell, socks too._ Percy made his way through the store, picking things that caught his eye, occasionally debating what he liked most.

Neither the hiking pants nor the track pants were very flattering, but between the two, he figured going the minimalist cargo route would work best. And thankfully they had a pair in charcoal.

The shirt was easier to decide, though he really disliked pure polyester for everyday use. Unless he was working out, one-hundred percent polyester was a no-go. He chose a dark green T-shirt and a blue hoodie to go over top of that.

Finally, the shoes. His mouth soured at the idea of wearing hiking shoes in the streets. Normally, sneakers were his choice, Ralph Lauren having been his go-to for years. Unfortunately, the store didn't do anything by half, so he had to make do with some lean trail-running shoes.

 _Coach would be pissed that I chose a pair with such poor traction._

At the register, he grabbed a pair of low-cut socks.

Percy took his wallet and opened it once the checker finished ringing his items. He froze. The cash—his cash—was gone.

In its stead, an REI gift card and a single piece of paper rested. Percy took the paper and read it. At the bottom, Quintus' name was signed.

"Paying with a gift card?" the cashier asked politely.

Percy nodded tightly.

"Are you alright, sir?" the cashier asked concernedly, taking the gift card.

Percy smiled and nodded tightly.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" the cashier asked tactfully.

Percy nodded tightly, grabbed his bags, and left. He went down the stairs, heat spreading through his stomach, chest, and face.

Instead of going down to the lowest floor, he stepped off onto the small trail he'd seen before and moved between the trees. Soon, the coniferous pines blocked him from the people walking on the path.

" _Rana_."

She came in from a flurry of pine needles, appearing beside him attentively.

He gave her the note. "Hold that for me."

She did so while he went about changing into his new clothes. After ripping the tags off and throwing them into the creek, he re-read Quintus' letter. His lip twitched down. Heat boiled his throat. Rain soaked his hair through, plastering it to his forehead, forcing rivulets down the bridge of his nose. He snorted some of the water away and grabbed the drenched paper from his daughter's hands.

Ranavalona tilted her head curiously.

"He took my money!" Percy said. "All of it!"

She shrugged.

Percy huffed. Of course she didn't understand his totally justifiable anger. She was a tree. A walking tree, sure, but a tree still. "Don't take that tone with me. Food! I want chowder! Warm clam chowder and sourdough bread and—gods I'm drooling just thinking about it! I haven't had a good meal in days, Rana, _days_. Speaking of eating…"

He tapped his heel to the ground. A datura sprouted. Just because he hadn't been affected in Old Eden didn't mean he would risk it again. So he put the flower behind his ear for later.

"Now where was I? Right, food. And Quintus! Bastard took my money."

His daughter looked at the tree-tops and shot her fingers out, extending so they were lost in the pines. When they retracted, a black bird was wrapped up in them. She offered him the crow, which struggled madly in her grasp.

Percy scanned her never-changing face for signs of humor. "That's disgusting—you're sick, you know that? You think I'm actually gonna kill, skin, and cook that? Seriously, you're sick."

She released her hold on the bird, patted its head, and let it fly off. Her sockets went to him, and he was almost sure she was laughing at his expense. The way her body twisted when she looked away cemented his suspicion. She was _laughing_ at him.

"Alright, I'm mad. You know, I could force you to take back my authority. Then I wouldn't feel the pain of you mocking me or my poor, rumbling stomach," Percy sniffed and crossed his arms.

Ranavalona immediately straightened and raised her hands, placating him with a vague sense of what she passed for sympathy. It wasn't a great attempt, but Percy let slide. He waved her off impatiently. There wasn't a point in wasting more time. The sooner he got the Amazon, the sooner he'd finish Quintus' stupid request, and the sooner he'd get his money back.

 **«White Cut»**

Having lived in a huge city his whole life, Percy, in the barest sense possible, felt like he was back at home walking down Seattle's streets. Although it was raining, he didn't see many umbrellas opened. Most everybody just threw a hood on and called it good. Some didn't even do that; they just bore the brunt of the rain, carrying on as if it were nothing.

Percy kept his own hood down. The buildings around him didn't rise tall enough to make him think this was downtown Seattle. There were a few more department stores, some restaurants, but no glass office buildings. In the distance rose some apartment complexes. He crossed the street, passing a Korean BBQ, nearly bowling over a girl with brightly colored hair—an unnatural amethyst purple mop put up in a messy bun—while he was searching around.

"Sorry," Percy stepped around her.

"Yo, Prez, don't leave me hangin' like that!" the girl called to him. She grabbed his hand, leading them to stand under a canopy by some apartments. "I knew it! Ha, that bitch Passi is gonna have a cow when I tell her I met you!"

Percy stared at her. Her face was a bit green as if she were sick. "Do I know you?"

She smiled widely. "Eh, I'd be _really_ surprised if you did. Won't lie, it'd be, like, super awesome, but I ain't gonna get my hopes up, Prez. After all, this is your first time visiting Seattle. Can't expect ya to know _everything_ , even if that would be pretty neat, though then you'd be closer to one of Athena's kids, and then you wouldn't be the Prez, and I wouldn't have cared about meeting you, so yeah."

He tried to follow what she was saying, finding that with how fast she was talking, he couldn't. But at least he'd found a local. "Yeah, sure. Hey, I'm looking for Amazon's headquarters. Do you know where—"

"Amazon? Hold up, why're you tryin' to get there? You a masochist? Damn, the others are gonna eat this up! Prez, say it ain't so."

"What are you—"

"Prez, dude, buddy, can it be you really _are_ a masochist? Or maybe you're just a…" She gasped and stared at him with wide eyes. "Are you into that sort of thing? Oh, gods! Are you a submissive looking for a dominant? Do you have a daddy kink? No, if you're going to Amazon, it's gonna be a—a mommy kink! What are your counters to these accusations, Prez?"

Percy's mouth hung ajar by the end of her tirade. "I don't even know where to start. I guess I'll go with the obvious question: _who are you_?"

The girl grimaced and laughed sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that, Prez. Name's Lodinalis—or Lo if that's too much of a mouthful."

"Okay, Lo. Why're you calling me 'Prez'."

Lo cocked her head. "Uh, cuz you're the Prez. No, that came out wrong. Let me try again. Cuz you're _the_ Prez. You're The Guy, The Boss, The Dude, President, Tsar, Supreme Leader, Doge, Most Serene Prince—"

Percy cut her off. "I get it!"

Lo stepped closer to him. She still hadn't let go of his hand, bringing it to her collarbone. Her grip tightened, eliciting a sharp _pop-pop-pop_ from his knuckles. "This is so cool! I can't believe I got to meet the Prez. Can I get an autograph?"

"Please let me go."

"Wait! A picture. Oh, I wish I had a camera!"

"Please let me go."

"A video would have been even better! Gah! The others might never believe me."

"Please let go."

"But an autograph would be good enough. Hold on, you should totally come over to the park so I can show everyone I found you!"

"Please—"

"Huh? Oh, sorry 'bout that, Prez!" Lo's nose was practically buried in his chin. She backed up and released his hand.

Percy flexed his fingers. At least he could feel them again. They'd been damn near numb in her iron-like grasp. "Are you a nymph?"

The girl winced. "Man, I can't get over how that sounds when someone says it aloud."

"Dryad?" Percy specified. Nymph did draw on some erotic imagery.

She nodded quickly. "Yup."

Her demeanor toward him made a lot more sense now that he knew she was a wood spirit. He was less worried about her green-tinged skin, at least. Though she seemed a bit more enthusiastic than the dryads at Camp Half-Blood.

"Right. Nice to meet you. I'm Percy."

She nodded again, much smoother than before, making a gesture with her hand as if she were playing it cool. "The Prez."

"You can just call me by my name." He gave her a polite smile.

"Nice! You're a pretty cool guy, Prez."

Percy sighed. He really should have expected that to happen. "So, about Amazon."

Lo's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! Gotta wonder why you're headin' there of all places."

"Have you heard about the murders in Sammamish?"

The smile that had been almost permanently stuck on Lo's face dropped faster than a meteor. "That's bad news, Prez. Nasty business. As in 'Hades should have done something but hasn't for some reason' kind of nasty."

Percy gulped when the air chilled at the mention of Hades. It felt much more potent here—the cold—than in New York. His breath became fog and the rain became hail for just a few seconds. The clouds turned so dark people actually stopped to look at the sky.

"Woah, weird. Names hold power, but that's just a bit ridiculous," Lo said.

"Definitely ridiculous," Percy agreed. "Anyway, I'm gonna stop the killer. Hopefully. Someone told me that Amazon was trying to do the same thing, and told me I should help them out."

"Who told you to find them?" Lo asked suspiciously.

Percy held back the scowl threatening to creep onto his face. "Quintus."

She thought, then declared, "Never heard of 'im! Did he tell you what to expect from the Amazons?"

"The Amazons?" Percy scratched his ear. "Uh, no. He said he didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"That bastard!" Lo pounded a fist into her open hand. "He totally wanted to get you all sorts of messed up."

"What's so bad about Amazon?"

Lo shook her head. "Amazon is a cover for _the Amazons_. They're building wealth and expanding all across the world."

"Wait, we're talking Amazons as in the warrior-women Amazons? Like, snap your spine with their thighs Amazons?"

"Yeah. They have their main base of operations here, in Seattle. Tons of offices. And to top it off, they built a climate-controlled garden right outside their HQ! Like a miniature rainforest! I heard they have exotic plants from the Philippines and India and stuff. Crazy."

Percy hummed. It sounded pretty cool. "So what's the problem? You made them out to be a bad group. Are they like the Hunters of Artemis."

"You gotta understand, the Amazons love men. Really, they do," Lo cleared her throat. "They don't have oaths against romantic love or anything of the sort, but a lot of them are looking for relationships where they can be… dominant over their significant other."

"Is that why you were talking about—"

Lo nodded furiously. "But now that I know you had no clue, well, sorry for pulling it on you, Prez."

"No problem, I guess. I'll watch my step." He was now even less sure about doing this than before. He'd never tried the whole _dominant/submissive_ thing, but for some reason, he doubted he'd get enjoyment from playing the submissive. Maybe that was because he was uneducated on the subject, though. Hey, he was wrong more often than a normal person had any right being.

"You're still gonna go? You've got my undying respect," Lo gave him a solid thump on the arm. "That's why you're the Prez, after all!"

Percy looked away, chagrined. It wasn't like he had a better option. Bar stealing someone's car, he wouldn't have any way to get to California without cash.

Actually, that wasn't true. He could have his daughter travel there and pull himself across that way. But a pull that far would leave him in a sorry state.

He didn't know how many miles it was from Seattle to San Diego—or had Zoë said San Francisco?—but he was pretty sure it was further than Manhattan to D.C.

A hellhound would probably be enough to kill him after a pull over three hundred miles. Even a toddler could take him out with a well-placed kick to the ankles.

There was the option of pulling himself shorter distances, cutting the journey piecemeal, but that ran the risk of him not being able to finish the trip before he had to take a good long break. He could end up stranded somewhere in Oregon, drained for days, with no money.

So his best bet was to play Quintus' game, get his cash back, then hit the road as fast as he could. Unfortunately, the weather hadn't permitted a rainbow to form, so he couldn't fill his friends in on what the plan was.

"Sure," Percy wiped his matted hair away from his eyes. "So how far to Amazon HQ?"

Lo gestured down the street. "You were really close. Like, not even a mile down that way, _boom_ , you'd have been hog-tied and squealin'. Good thing I caught ya, Prez."

Percy shuddered at the thought. "Uh, yeah, good thing. Thanks for the help."

She gave him a bright grin, hopping closer happily. "Hey, can I come with you?"

"To Amazon?"

"Yeah! I haven't been inside The Spheres before, so I figured going with the Prez would be really cool."

"I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't mind some company," Percy said. He smiled a bit. "Welcome aboard, Lo."

The girl gave him a dramatic thumbs-up. "Glad to be here, Prez!"

 **«White Cut»**

Amazon's miniature rainforest turned out to be no small feat of construction. The spheres, of which there were three lined up, stood to tower over Percy and Lo. Both spheres on the sides were three stories, while the one in the middle was four. They were massive domes of glass and metal. Inside, Percy could see plants, with people lingering around tables, eating or discussing at their leisure.

Percy's stomach growled again. He sighed, not for the first time wondering why he couldn't make delicious apples or bananas or _any_ kind of food-stuff. Oh, he could make those things, but for some reason, it always tasted so bad he couldn't keep any of it down. Oh sure, he could eat coca, datura, or grass, but heaven forbid he ate actual food.

Behind the Spheres was an office complex reaching for the sky. Its windows were tinted dark, a contrast to the transparency of the Spheres.

"Not what I expected," Percy said, staring at the domes. "This _is_ actually pretty cool. You think they'd let us tour the place?"

Lo shrugged. While they'd been walking earlier, he'd noticed she became more subdued the closer they got to The Spheres. Now, even though she tried to bring back her cheer, it felt awkwardly forced. "They might not. I hear there's a waitlist for that sort of thing normally. But! But! But! They should totally let you in. I mean, you're The Guy! The Dude! Prez!"

Percy looked at her. "Not everybody is gonna be as impressed by me as you are."

"I know!" she pouted. "You don't need that kind of negativity in your life. Seriously. If someone tries to mess with you, send 'em my way. I'll give 'em a good one-two K.O. Right in the schnoz."

He chuckled. "Is that right?"

She blushed, her cheeks turning an even prettier shade of green. "Oh, uh, well, yeah—uh okay, no. I'm not a fighter." She looked down. "Sorry."

"No big deal," Percy said. "I don't usually let other people fight my battles for me. Though, I've made exceptions before. Don't worry, I never expected you to beat anyone up for me. But thanks for the offer."

Pulling her along, he made for the entrance, slowing down when he saw a guard step forward from under an awning.

"Sorry guys," the guard held up his hands. "Spheres are closed to the public for now."

"Did something happen?" Percy asked.

"I'm not really able to tell you much. Tours should start back up within a week. That's what I was told."

Percy frowned. He jabbed a thumb at the skyscraper behind him. "Is your office open, then?"

"Yeah, that's open."

That would have to do, then, Percy thought. He thanked the guard, hurrying around the domes, finally sick of being under the rain. Stairs led up to the office building's front doors. A glass canopy held up by metal struts kept the pathway dry. Before they stepped inside, Lo stopped, pulling back a few paces.

"I think this is as far as I go," she said wistfully. "It's been real, Prez."

"Wait, what? You don't wanna go in? Weren't you the one who asked to come along?" Percy scratched his head. Water dripped from his chin.

Lo looked at the building. "Well, this is your serious business. I just wanted to walk with you a bit more. Besides… the dryads around here and the Amazons have been on bad terms since 2003. I thought I could handle it, but…" She shook her head. "I—I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry. I'm not as brave as you are."

Percy put a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. Thanks for bringing me this far."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "Do you have something to defend yourself with?"

"I've got a knife," Percy tapped the dagger Quintus had given him.

Her eyes widened. "You were gonna go in there with just that? I guess that's why you're the Prez. Brave and bold."

"At least take this, though," Lo added, handing him a bunch of seeds no larger than his littlest finger's nail.

Percy plucked them out of her palm. He held one up to his eye, even if there wasn't a reason to do so, being who he was. _Lobelia cardinalis._ A common cardinal flower. The seeds, if properly cared for, could become a charming flower bed. And of course, under Percy's care, that was guaranteed.

"Everyone should have some backup ammo," she said, smiling again. "Maybe you won't have to use them, but if you do get into a pickle, I'm sure you'll have no problem turning the tide!"

"Thanks, Lo," Percy pocketed the seeds. He looked at the guard, who was talking into a microphone clipped to his uniform. "You need me to walk you back? I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with the Amazons."

"I won't take any more of your time, Prez," Lo glanced at him, clearly indecisive. With an almost imperceptible nod, she took a step toward him. "But if you wanna make it up to me…"

Percy internally grimaced at some kind of new request. He really needed to stop indebting himself to people. Hopefully, it would be something reasonable, not involving serial killers or warrior tribes.

"Could you come visit me at Denny Park when you finish up that stuff in Sammamish?"

Again, something that would take time out of his day when what he really needed was to get down to California. For a second, he wondered if it was worth agreeing to, but when it boiled down to it, he just nodded.

"Awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Lo threw herself at him. Her arms wrapped painfully tight around his midsection. The top of her soggy bun of hair slapped his mouth. "You're the best, Prez!"

Percy awkwardly gave her a pat on the back. Her enthusiasm made him feel bad for not looking forward to their future meeting. She didn't deserve to hear that coming from him, though, so he kept his stupid mouth shut. After all, if it made her happy, then maybe he didn't really mind so much.

 **«White Cut»**

Amazon's office was certainly distinct. The walls of tinted glass prevented inward glances, but when inside, anybody could look out onto the streets without a problem. A shining, nicely polished stone floor with the Amazon logo printed on it gave an impression of operational detachment. The lights inside were warm orange, and a row of directional lamps was pointed at a long reception desk attached to one side of the back wall, which was also made of black stone. Potted bamboo at each corner gave the room some measure of life.

Percy took note of the plants. They were relatively healthy if somewhat yearning to grow out of their containers. Apparently, the caretakers planted Allgold, a running type of bamboo which liked to spread out through the soil horizontally and produce more shoots.

He walked to one of the pots and trailed his fingers over the culm.

"Can I help you, _sir_?"

The sudden call from behind him made Percy jump. A small piece of the stalk was broken free from the bamboo's main body when he abruptly whirled around.

A woman—young woman, maybe around Luke's age—stared at the chunk of bamboo in his hand. Her hair was short, straight, and parted down her forehead; a professional style, just like her black pants and green shirt.

Percy laughed sheepishly and hid the culm behind his back, pushing it into his pocket. "Ah, uh, sorry. You surprised me."

The woman didn't seem to share his attitude. Her eyes dropped to his waist. "Can I help you… _sir_?"

Shuffling, Percy turned a bit so she couldn't see the dagger. Had she seen through the Mist? No doubt, she'd been looking at the weapon. That was good. He could talk openly with her.

"I'm—well I came to help with the murders in Sammamish."

She stared at him. "Who are you? What business do you have invading Amazon territory with a dryad wrapped around your waist? Why have you come armed?"

"Percy Jackson. I'm not invading? And, uh, because it's better than being unarmed?" He counted the questions off on his fingers, then held out his hand happily. "Partners?"

She slapped his offer away. A finger jabbed itself into his sternum forcefully. "Percy Jackson, was it? You're lucky we're dealing with other things. I'll give you one chance to turn your ass around and march—fucking march!—out those doors. Otherwise, I promise you, this is gonna end with violence."

Percy's eyes widened and he took a step back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I came to help, is all. Look, Quintus told me—"

They were so close that the woman barely had to move to grab his arm. Wrenching him around, she threw him to the ground, planting her knee on his stomach. The edge of a sword kissed his neck. He had to wonder how many people carried around weapons that could conveniently appear whenever a fight broke out. Seriously, he had to get one of those.

The woman's name badge labeled her as Doris. Definitely a plain name for someone with fire in her eyes. Not actual fire, of course. Figuratively, though, as her crinkled face was a mask of passionate fury.

"Quintus, eh?" she chuckled. "Nice. He owes us big for getting three of our girls killed in Sammamish! Fucking cunt! Glad he could send more fodder."

Doris leaned off him. "Alright, I'm gonna stand you up. Try anything funny, and I'll cut your hand off. Take your pick. You only need one to use a dagger anyway."

She pulled him up and took the knife from his waist. Percy went along, just about ready to strangle Quintus for screwing him over. Again. He wondered if helping was worth it. But the matter was still money. So unless he robbed a bank— _now there's an idea!_ —he had no better options.

"We're gonna walk to those stairs," Doris turned him around, pointing at a descending staircase near the reception desk. She put the sword right under his jaw.

Percy probably could have gotten away. His daughter was eager to skewer poor, unsuspecting Doris. There were good, strong plants in the room he could acquisition. But there was always the chance Doris cut his throat before he cleared her reach.

 _Ah, better not try right now._ He would wait and see. Maybe he'd be able to talk his way out of the situation. If not, he'd just wait for a chance to get away from Doris. Once he wasn't in range of her sword, he could probably disarm her or something.

Doris marched him down the stairs, each step bringing the blade ebbing closer and further from his skin. They continued their descent for longer than what Percy thought was possible. It really was an exercise in patience more than anything else.

The last flight of stairs opened its walls to become a massive cavern. From his place on the stairs, Percy caught only a snippet of the room's extent. It could have fit a university campus inside. From the ceiling hung large fluorescent lights. Shelves filled to the brim with packages were placed in rows, upon rows, upon columns spanning the entire cavern. Assembly lines ran near the floor, with hundreds of robotic arms going about the motions of packing, stacking, and sorting. It was like something out of an old movie depicting the future of humanity.

"Keep moving," Doris demanded.

Percy hadn't realized he'd stopped walking. He finally stepped off the staircase.

"Impressive, isn't it?" she asked with obvious conceit. "We had to spend most of our fortune to build up to this point. The investment is already paying for itself, though, and we plan on adding more conveyor belts in the next year or so to help keep up with the demand."

"So, where're we going?" Percy looked around. Guys in orange jumpsuits helped haul boxes around, putting parts on the assembly line or taking stuff off when it was complete. There weren't many walking around, but each one had a plain iron collar around their neck. It was an uncomfortable thing to watch, even if, for some reason, none of them looked irritated or otherwise offended. In fact, Percy would say they seemed somewhat content for all intents and purposes. Also meandering across the catwalks and ground floor were girls, most of them wearing black camo clothing.

Doris huffed through her nose. "I'm taking you to the queen, of course."

"Oh, right, _of course_. How could I forget the queen, gods save her!" Percy rolled his eyes. Did this girl think he knew everything? "So who's the queen?"

The pommel of the sword smacked Percy's shoulder blade, drawing a grunt from him. His daughter made to manifest, but he stopped her.

"No sass," Doris droned. "Our current queen is more forgiving than the last, but make no mistake, she'll see your tongue fed to the hounds if you disrespect her."

"Fine, fine. Hey, who'd you leave covering the front anyway? Don't tell me you abandoned your post. The queen won't like that I bet."

He got another whack to the back for that. "Shut up. Gods, you're annoying."

They walked in silence, Percy starting to wonder about the Amazon queen and if they would be able to work together. He already regretted meeting the Amazons, and not seeing Quintus for the manipulative creep he really was. Honestly, who saved someone's life then said, _Well damn, guess I'll take all of your money and jeopardize the fate of Olympus while I'm at it. Oh, and I'll force you to do my dirty work. Sucker._

Though he was mostly engrossed in his thoughts, a few things caught Percy's attention. Boxes of grenades, for example, along with hundreds of crates filled with bullets. Racks of swords, bows, shields, and ski poles started becoming more of a common sight. In a larger clearing, some men were examining the tracks of a tank. Next to them was a poster advertising: M4 SHERMAN. RELIABLE. REFURBISHED. MUST HAVE FOR ANY INVASION FORCE.

"How much for the tank?" he asked innocently.

Doris scoffed. "It's already been sold. We're getting ready to ship it out. Not that you'd have been able to afford it."

Percy nodded. "Yeah, you're right. But I was bored of the awkward silence."

"Well lucky for you, you're about to meet the queen. She's sure to have something to speak to you about."

They walked through a pair of enormous blast doors, like what Percy would expect in a missile silo. They must have been several feet thick.

Past the doors was a smaller cavern, some kind of loading zone with a makeshift throne atop pallets of books. Along the walls were metal crates filled with monsters. Hellhounds, giant eagles, scorpions, huge sheep, twin-headed snakes; all of them were behind steel bars. At least, he hoped they were made of steel. Some of those monsters looked pretty angry.

Sitting with her legs kicked out, posture slumped, and face ridden with boredom, the woman on the throne regarded Percy and Doris with a single eye. Her long dark hair covered the other completely. One of her hands gripped a bottle of hard liquor, fingers curled possessively around the bottle's neck.

"My queen, I found this—"

"Leave, Doris. Take the boy with you. Keep him as a pet if you wish, but I have no time to listen to drivel while my subjects are dying not even thirty miles away," the queen dismissed them with a contemptuous sniff. She took a swig from the bottle.

"Please, hear me," Doris almost growled.

The queen narrowed her open eye. "Do I have nothing better to do than humor you? Are you perhaps assuming I would rather not take my duties seriously? Or maybe it's just a matter of you being unable to grasp the severity of the situation. Shall I send you to the lake next, Doris?"

"The reason I brought this boy before you has to do with the sorceress, my queen!"

"Oh? Tell me what is so important then."

Doris stepped forward. "He claims Quintus sent him."

Percy held up his hand. "Hey, I came on my own. He just suggested this place to me. I don't work for the guy."

The queen stood, waving her bottle around, ignoring what he'd just said. "Quintus! And here I thought I'd never have the displeasure of associating with that man again. Very well! Boy, your name?"

"Percy Jackson. Nice to meet you. Great place you have here. Love the aesthetic."

She took a drink. "No doubt you are a half-blood. Tell me, who is your godly parent?"

"Persephone."

The queen laughed. "Persephone? Really? Ah, I see you wear the flower with pride behind your ear. And how does Quintus think you can be of any use to us?"

"Dunno. But he has my money hostage. Until this thing in Sammamish is dealt with, he'll keep that cash. My friends need my help, but I'll need money to get back to them. All he gave me was a knife and this drachma." Percy flipped the coin.

"Is that silver?" she squinted.

He nodded. "It is. What's wrong with that?"

The queen gave him an amused coo. "You have no friends here, Percy Jackson, and that includes Quintus. If what you say is true, and you are required to stop the sorceress' ritual in order to continue, then it seems you have no choice but to cooperate. Quintus is many things, a snake among those, but he's no idiot. He manipulated you for a reason. I intend to use you as he planned."

Percy rolled his eyes. "I hear you. Quintus is an ass, but if you're planning on using me, I'd like some food first. And seriously, what's wrong with the drachma?"

"The gods don't use anything less than gold. Iris won't accept payment in the form of a silver drachma," the queen finished her liquor with a sigh. She snickered as she set the bottle down. "Quintus played you."

"That son of a bitch!" Percy glared at the coin. "First the money, then making me meet you guys of all people, and now this?"

The queen stepped down from her dais. When her long hair was swept aside, her other eye shined under the light, pure white, no pupil or iris to it. Her movements off the stairs were unrestricted by the loose track pants and varsity jacket she wore. A gold belt in the shape of interlocking links looped around her waist. Doris made to say something, but the queen waved her away, so Doris moved aside to a respectable distance.

Once she'd gotten in front of him, her good eye, a crystal blue which stood out against her dark complexion, trailed over his figure. She smelled like a campfire. "If I didn't think you could help us, I'd have set you up on a meat hook by now. You come here, into our main base of operations, demand an audience, and disrespect your superiors. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or irritated."

"Ah, but where has my mind gone?" the queen shook her head ruefully, holding her jowls. "Introductions. Right. My name is Myrr, and I am the Amazons' rightful queen through conquest."

Percy huffed, still sore about the drachma. "Myrr, got it. I suppose I should start by saying I didn't mean to disrespect you. But my tragic backstory makes it so I have problems with authority figures."

"Yes, I can see that. How _unfortunate,_ " Myrr pulled out a cigarette and lighter. "Ah, but tell me about your friends. Why should I care about you getting back to them?" She offered him the lit cigarette.

"The fate of Olympus might be determined by the quest we're on," Percy said, declining the chance for a puff. "I dunno if that matters to you or not, but hey, there's that."

She eyed him with interest, taking a drag. "That sounds serious. Tell me about it."

He gave her a barebones summary of their quest, and how it had gone until that point.

"Artemis kidnapped? You aren't lying to me, are you? Hm, no, no you aren't. Well, as I thought, it is quite serious. Too bad it doesn't matter to me."

Percy blinked a few times. "Uh, maybe you didn't hear the whole 'fate of Olympus' part. I can repeat it."

Myrr smirked. "No, I heard you just fine. But Olympus and those in it don't fall under my ambition. They are secondary—tertiary—concerns for me. See, my father, Hephaestus, is a creator. He is a builder. Through him, I inherited a bit of that kind of passion. I want to build something great! And here, in Seattle, at the heart of the Amazon kingdom, I'm doing just that."

"So, what, you wanna work for Boeing or something?"

Cigarette smoke filled the air between them. "Gods no. How boring," Myrr spread her arms. "No, after I became queen of these fine warriors, I've found myself attached to expanding the Amazons' sphere of influence. Building an empire. Creating a legacy through which I can be immortalized like Otrera, or rather, form something that outstrips every Amazon queen to come before me. Now, I've never met dear old dad, but I imagine even he would be impressed by that kind of creation."

Percy looked at the throne. "Well, it sounds like your life is all planned out. Wish I could say the same."

"Give it time." The cigarette almost poked his chest when she jabbed it at him. "Maybe you'll get there. Maybe not, especially if you keep trying to continue on with this quest. Atlas will kill you."

"Can you help, then? I'd rather not die."

"For you?" she looked him up and down again. "No. Sorry. You're cute, but I prefer a bit more muscle on my men."

Percy crossed his arms. "Creepy comment aside... how about for Olympus, then?"

Myrr chuckled. "Didn't you hear me before? That doesn't concern me. Let the gods fall. I wouldn't mind seeing what the dawning of a new age is like. Amazons prefer to live life to the fullest. If I can die fighting a good fight, then hey, I won't have any regrets."

"There's gotta be something..."

Giving him an oddly vacant stare, Myrr mumbled something to herself, the cigarette pasted to her lips. After a few seconds, the queen shrugged and reached behind her. When her arm came around, she was holding a pistol, aiming it right between Percy's eyes. "I guess there is something you can do."

Sweat sprang to Percy's armpits. He took a step back, holding up his hands defensively. "Okay, wait, hold on. What'd I do to piss you off?"

"What can I say?" she smiled. "I'm tired of talking. So I'll give you a choice before we get started. The Police or U2?"

"Um, maybe you should hold off on killing me."

"The Police? Good choice," Myrr spoke up as if to address someone else. "Alexa, play Canary in a Coalmine."

The song started playing over some very crisp speakers hidden in the cavern.

Myrr bopped her head to the energetic beat. "Now let's get down to brass tacks."

Percy smiled despite his pounding heart. "Hey now, if you kill me, my daughter would be really sad."

"Your daughter? Now that's unexpected. Would you like me to ship a piece of your skull to her? I'm sure she'd like something to bury."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said. "She's actually here."

His eyes flickered to the empty space behind Myrr. When the queen glanced back, Percy reached for the bamboo culm in his back pocket. Ranavalona sprang to life. The sound of crunching drew Myrr's attention back to the front, but by then Rana had already made her first move, elongating her fingers into a twisting mass branches.

Myrr grinned and tossed the gun up. She dodged, whipping her foot around. Her leg crushed Rana's wooden fingers. Splinters were sent skyward while the pistol dropped back into one of Myrr's waiting hands.

Percy looked at Doris, who seemed startled by the sudden whirl of action, knowing he would have only one chance to take her by surprise. So before she could jump to action, he grabbed the seeds Lo had given him, silently sending the dryad thanks, and with a quick heave, he chucked the handful into Doris' face.

As they traveled, the seeds began to bloom, a flying swath of gorgeous red flowers soon taking their place in the air. Percy had given them only that single command: grow. They did just that. When they hit Doris square in the nose, the flowers kept growing. Roots quickly spread into whatever opening they could find.

He grimaced when Doris fell to the ground, unmoving. He really hadn't meant to do that. Running to her body, Percy kneeled, went to pull the flowers away, then paused; he realized there probably wasn't a point. Instead, he checked her neck, finding a pulse. He forced the red flowers to recede. Doris gagged when the roots crept back up from her throat. Tendrils grew around her arms and legs, immobilizing her on the ground.

Percy shook his head, glad he could save her in time. If he'd been a few seconds slower, the roots would've grown into her lungs, stomach, and even through her ears and eyes. Looking down at her, he cocked his fist back, then slammed it into her jaw. Her head jerked to the side. He hoped she was unconscious. Turning, he saw Myrr cracking his daughter's torso with another amazingly brutal roundhouse kick. Percy took the sword from Doris' hand, also clipping his knife back to his waist.

Thinking Myrr was off balance, he advanced with the sword at the ready. Just a few feet separated them now. He didn't want to kill or seriously hurt the queen, since then he'd have every Amazon in the area hot on his trail. So he had to be careful with his first attack.

The queen wasn't quite as uncoordinated as she should have been after downing a thirty-ounce bottle of Jack Daniel's. She must have seen Percy coming, because when he swung his sword to cut her leg, she danced out of the way. The blade met empty space.

Percy didn't stop. He tried again, aiming for her upper thigh. If he could just make her quit, maybe things would turn out fine. He didn't know why she was attacking in the first place, so maybe she just wanted him dead. Or she could have been secretly working for Atlas. Endless possibilities.

Myrr smirked as she pivoted around his attack. She pushed him away without countering.

Percy caught himself and stabbed at her knee. With them being so close, it should have been impossible to dodge.

But Myrr jumped back, avoiding him again. Then she did so again, and again, and again. Every time he swung or thrust, she managed to slip away with a smile. More often than not the pistol would come up and point directly at Percy. When that happened, he prepared for a shot that never came. Even though she'd had plenty of opportunities, Myrr didn't take any of them; she just flashed her teeth in his direction as if saying _I've got your life in my hands here._

Then, with a single front kick, Myrr sent Percy staggering away clutching his stomach. It felt like needles had been jammed into his gut and spine. Rana took the opening and threw a javelin of wood fashioned from her own body. Myrr hit the deck, catching herself with her fists, then pushed up to stand again. The javelin crashed against the dais.

Rana went to pull another weapon out of her body, but Myrr moved faster. She flung her pistol at Percy, hitting him square on the forehead. Her cigarette flew into Rana's face. The queen pointed her finger at it and said, "Boom."

A pillar of fire erupted from the stick, igniting Rana. Myrr sprinted forward, then did a full gymnastics floor routine. She hopped, flipped onto her hands, threw herself into the air, twisted, came back down, backflipped, and landed a rather spectacular downward kick on Rana's head, which shattered into pieces of charred wood, along with the rest of her form.

"What in the name of..." Percy rubbed his head.

Myrr dusted her pants free of ash. When she was satisfied, her attention turned to him, and she made her way over with a smirk.

Percy stooped down to grab the pistol. Myrr raced toward him, sliding past his weak jab with the sword. She grabbed his wrist, wrenching the sword out of his grasp just as he pointed the gun at her stomach.

They stared at each other. Well, Myrr kept that oddly flippant smirk, even as the barrel of the pistol pressed into her.

"So, do I win?" Percy asked.

Myrr leaned closer. Her good eye gleamed. "Fabulous prizes, yes. Mm. Has anyone ever told you that you smell like someone sprayed a carcass with perfume to cover the rot."

"Well if you say it, then it's gotta be true."

"Aren't you going to pull that trigger?"

"Do you want me to?"

She grinned. "You must know that killing me would make it so every Amazon in the Seattle area hunts you down. I wonder if you'd even make it out of this facility alive."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "I bet you thought of everything, huh? Why didn't you shoot me when you could?"

"Didn't I say I would use you like Quintus intended? I wasn't going to kill an asset. Don't be ridiculous."

"Then you aren't working for Atlas?"

"Of course not. I just wanted to see what would happen if I put you in a bad spot. Besides, there isn't a single bullet in the magazine," she said, tapping the gun's slide. "May I?"

Percy hesitantly let her take the gun back. When she pulled the magazine out, it was empty, just like she'd said.

"See? I'm not some psychopath who goes around pointing fully loaded guns at people," Myrr said calmly. She aimed the pistol at the ceiling. A shot thundered out, the noise bouncing around the cavern, making Percy flinch. "Though I do like to keep a round in the chamber."

"What are you, some kind of troll or something?"

The queen put her gun away. "I was born to be wild, but the cage was too small."

Percy scoffed. His hand inched toward his knife. "So we're cool then? No more attempted murder? Because honestly, I'm too hungry to keep going."

"That's no fun, but I'll humor you," Myrr shrugged, chuckling. "Man. I thought you, of all people, would relate to me best. We have so much in common. We're born from the same clay. Equals in the first way possible. But we stand on opposite spectrums, it seems."

"Equals? How do you figure?"

She slapped her face. "And to top it off you're completely ignorant of the fact. What a twist. The gods just love to make our lives hell, huh?"

"What are you—"

"Forget about it," she flicked her wrist. "You're on your own there, kid."

Percy pursed his lips. He didn't think pressing the matter would get him anywhere good, even if he did want to know what she was talking about. "What's next then?"

"Next?" She looked at the entrance to the cavern. The sound of hurried steps echoed. Soon, a squad of Amazons in patchwork armor rushed into the room, weapons at the ready.

The lead girl had a sword and wore only a pair of vambraces over a set of casual clothing. Her hair was as dark as Myrr's, but it was set in a single braid which fell over one of her shoulders. Percy was bad at judging age, he knew, but he'd peg this girl as being in her late teens or early twenties. Not as old as Myrr or Doris.

"My queen! We heard gunfire!"

"Ah, Hylla, just in time," Myrr gestured to the area. "Doris there seems to be a little less than alive. Kindly get the corpse out of my throne room."

"What... what happened in here?" Hylla asked, looking at the scorch marks on the floor where Ranavalona used to be. She walked over to Doris and pressed a pair of fingers to the woman's neck. "She's alive, actually. Unconscious, but... what's with the flowers?"

"You spared her?" Myrr glanced at Percy. She pulled out another cigarette but hesitated to light it. It lingered between her fingers for a second. Thinking better, the queen put it away. "Okay then. Well, Hylla, Percy here might come across as meek and unassuming—"

Percy's mouth dropped. "Rude! I'm very assuming, for your information, _Myrr_ -kat.

"But in truth, he's a dangerous guy. Not that I'd expect any of you to understand that right now. After all, only someone who knows him like I do would see." The queen's good eye twitched. "That's a cute nickname. I'll be sure to carve in into your tombstone."

Percy shrugged. "Just be sure to include my Galaga high score." He looked at Hylla. "Sorry about Doris, by the way. I forgot to take the plants off her."

"Don't worry about it," Myrr interrupted. "Between you and me, I don't like Doris anyway. And on top of that, she should've known better than to let her guard down around a potential enemy. You caught her by surprise when she could've dodged. You should've just killed her. I don't need stupid soldiers. Those girls I lost in Sammamish, on the other hand..."

Myrr snapped her fingers. "Right! Brass tacks. Hylla, come here."

Hylla walked toward the queen, her sword sliding back into the scabbard by her hip.

"Percy Jackson, this is Hylla Ramirez-Arellano. She came to us, oh, maybe three months ago. I took her in, and haven't regretted it since. She's a tough one," Myrr gave the girl a heavy slap on the back, forcing a cough from Hylla, who shot her queen a dirty look. "Damn good monster hunter, too. After she joined, the number of captive monsters we acquired went up by three-hundred percent! Great profit!"

"Okay?" Percy gestured with his hands to move the conversation along.

"And even though she's pretty new, I promoted her to be one of my top officers. You should get to know her a bit, Percy. The both of you are going to be working together so we can put this sorceress business out of mind."

"So the thing going on in Sammamish is related to a sorceress?" Percy tilted his head back. He was pretty sure Atlas said something about a sorceress back in D.C.

"It is," Hylla spoke up, cutting off Myrr's response. "A powerful sorceress. Probably the most powerful alive. Or dead, for that matter. Technically, we'll be going up against a goddess and her cronies. You up for it, Percy Jackson?"

"Well if that isn't the darndest thing." Percy rubbed a hand over his gut. "Let's eat first. Then I can give it my best shot."

"Excellent!" Myrr punched his arm. "Hylla will treat you to whatever you like."

Percy's mouth watered. "She will?"

Hylla grumbled, "I will?"

The queen laughed. "Of course! You can even think of it as a date. I mean, Percy, she's quite beautiful, isn't she?"

He nodded absentmindedly, thinking about what he wanted to eat most. "Yeah."

"And Hylla! He's handsome enough, right?"

"Sure," the girl shrugged. "A little scrawny but—"

Percy frowned. "I'm lean, not scrawny. There's a difference."

Hylla gave him a tired smile which really only upturned half of her mouth. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"A warm glass of milk usually helps take the edge off," Percy nodded.

"So we have a plan. Hylla, take Percy out for a bite, bond a little, talk it over. Then come back here. I'll fill you two in on what I expect at that point," Myrr crossed her arms. "We aren't just up against a goddess. She has some very dangerous help. Best you get ready for a bad time."

"Oh yeah, that's a great sales pitch," Percy chuckled. "What a confidence booster."

Myrr smirked. "I just want to get you in the right mindset. Because honestly, how confident are you in fighting against Hector, the greatest Trojan warrior? Like it or not, that's peak male performance right there. And from what I gathered through our fight, you aren't even close to reaching that peak."

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 **A/N: This chapter came later than it should have. About four thousand words were lost somewhere in the editing process, so I had to rewrite all of the final segment. Pretty annoying. As always, thanks to the folks who drop some feedback, since it gives me warm fuzzy feelings, and thanks to all you gorgeous people out there for continuing to read.**

 **Oh, after many people saying I should, I'm on a Discord server now, with a bunch of other authors, and I have a channel there. The link is on my profile. So if you've ever spent a sleepless night wondering what it would be like to watch me re-think what I type for five minutes on end, come on over. Find my channel and pick a fight with me.**

* * *

 _ **Review Response-**_

 **Superkami God: Definitely Dior. Maybe if I praise their product enough, I'll get sponsored.**

 **Malosi06: Thanks!**

 **Fan: Still chugging along despite setbacks.**


	12. Hark, the Herald Hero

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

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12\. Hark, the Herald Hero

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Bowing at their waists, the dryads who'd asked for Percy's autograph walked away, speaking quietly between one another as they went further down the pier. Each of them shot him a final glance before disappearing into the moving crowd of people on Pier 55.

Percy hummed to himself. He wondered if this is what it was like to be a celebrity. Honestly, he could see how easy it would be for the constant interruption of his normal day to get annoying. At least Lo, for all her abundant energy, had helped him. These dryads just took up his time.

Well, he figured the attention wasn't all too terrible.

"Done with your posse?" Hylla asked when he approached her. She had kept her distance while he'd been speaking with the dryads.

Percy blinked. "My… _what_?"

"Your posse."

He grinned sheepishly. "Oh. I definitely heard… uh… anyway, let's go eat."

At Myrr's insistence, Hylla had taken one of the company cars so they could get around easier. But since Seattle was a city, it had a lot of city-like problems, such as traffic. So even though the Amazons' central office wasn't too far from Pier 55, their drive had taken almost fifteen minutes.

The sidewalk in front of the boardwalk was inlaid with little glass bricks. Behind them rose the Alaskan Way Viaduct, and beyond that were an array of office buildings, hotels, and apartment complexes. Two piers down stood a giant Ferris wheel.

Across the calm waters of Elliot Bay, some other island barely stood out behind the gloom and fog of a rainy day in the Puget Sound.

"Wait…" Hylla suddenly stopped walking. Her face was scrunched, either because she was holding in laughter or because she smelled something pretty awful. "What did you think I said?"

Percy coughed and pointed at their destination: Boyard's Avant-Garde Shack of Clam Kabuki, colloquially known as B.A.G.S.O.C.K., according to Hylla, which really made Percy wonder about the owner. "Oh, look, there's our stop. Let's get in there before—"

Hylla blocked him from taking another step with her arm. "Hold up there, boyo. Did you think I said pu—"

"Punk isn't dead? Yeah, great news, huh?" He forced a laugh.

Hylla stared at him for a second, a thin, vaguely mischievous grin breaking out on her face just a moment later. "Alright, I'll let it drop. We do have more important things to worry about than a guy with a perverted brain, anyway. Like that stomach of yours."

Percy sobbed. "You can hear it too? It's trying to eat itself. I can't take it anymore. It'll be a matter of time before I'm nothing but skin and bones."

"Well let's make sure that doesn't happen," Hylla said as she kept walking, "since I don't want a skeleton on my side when we go up against the sorceress. I mean, you're already a man of questionable stature…"

"Excuse me for not putting whey protein in my shakes every morning." Percy jogged after her. "Just for you, I'll be sure to get ripped like Apollo Creed before we face that nameless sorceress, okay? Then maybe you can sleep easier at night."

The discussion between them faltered when Hylla didn't bother to respond. A few tourists passed them by with cameras, pointing excitedly at the line of piers, down toward the Ferris wheel. Scents of charred meat broke through the misty air, coming from a hot dog stand between Pier 55 and Pier 54. The sizzle of bratwurst on a grill made Percy's mouth water.

"I thought you wanted good seafood?" Hylla had her arms crossed as she waited for him.

Percy hadn't even realized he was stopped and staring at the food cart longingly. "Right, right, let's go. Sorry, I just can't stand not eating."

"I know the feeling, but the restaurant isn't even another hundred steps away. Control yourself."

Nodding, Percy followed Hylla to B.A.G.S.O.C.K. The building itself was made of wood panels tinted yellow and trimmed blue-green. A brilliant neon red sign spelled out the ridiculously long name above a pair of doors painted bright gold. Smoky tinted windows cut the front entrance into four separate pieces as they traveled from the roof down to the floor, outlined by small flashing bulbs.

Inside wasn't nearly as garish as the outside. The carpet was boring gray patterned with lighter gray fabric, a sharp contrast to the rosewood chairs and tables. Bright yellow lights were arranged in close order on the ceiling. The booth tops were made of granite or some cheap imitation, just like the bar was. A wall of delicious smelling vapor presented a firm front almost as soon as they passed the doors and into the waiting area.

A young hostess came to them almost immediately. "Table for the both of you?"

Hylla unzipped her jacket and pulled a lanyard from inside her shirt. Inside a badge holder was her Amazon employee I.D. card. "How about we get a booth by the back, with a nice view, I think."

The hostess nodded quickly. "Sounds good!"

She led them near the back corner, where a booth touched some large windows overlooking Elliott Bay. The view, unfortunately, was pretty dreary since it was raining. On a clear day, though, Percy was sure it would have been nicer.

Setting a menu in front of Hylla first, the hostess slid Percy his and left them.

"You seem popular," Percy noted as he scanned the seafood choices. He peeked over his menu to watch Hylla.

Her eyes were already on him, and didn't move away when his found hers. Up close, a thin white line on her forehead seemed to be the only blemish on her otherwise warm dusky complexion. The sharpness at the corner of each eye complemented her straight nose and the point of her chin. She was, without a single doubt in Percy's mind, gorgeous. Her lips weren't full like some people preferred, and when he looked closer, the signs of a bad habit were there, marked pinkish-red, probably from where she'd bitten into and torn the skin.

If she caught or cared about his undoubtedly roving eyes, she didn't say. Instead, she hummed and kept skimming through her own menu, making a movement with her mouth that gave Percy the impression she was chewing on the inner part of her bottom lip.

Across from them, four tables down, a man was seated by another host.

"Amazons," Hylla finally said, her voice snapping him out of his thoughts, "are everywhere around Seattle. We dip our fingers in a lot of things. And when you have a city as big as Seattle, there are bound to be plenty of people eager to work with a good company. Employees get certain benefits from that mutual cooperation."

Percy looked around. "So that chick knows you're an Amazon?"

"I don't know. What I do know, is that this fine establishment is just one of many that have been improved with Amazonian help."

"Huh. Neat. So do you get discounts and stuff? Loyalty rewards? Special birthday offers?"

"Preferential treatment and… yeah, the loyalty thing. I get extra points here. Since I'm paying for the both of us, I might get enough to get twenty bucks off next time I visit."

"You're welcome then," Percy held a hand over his chest. "Without me, you'd have needed to make an extra trip."

"Don't push it," Hylla yawned.

Percy smiled. "You seem tired. Long hours?"

"Ever since the sorceress came to town, we've seen a pretty big rise in monster attacks. Not to mention those stupid spirits…" she sighed and ran a thumb over her eyebrow. "We were being overworked just with that. Then those people started turning up dead. It was at that point Myrr gave us the kill order on the sorceress. Until then, we'd been pretty neutral toward her setting up shop."

"And then she killed three of your people," Percy said. "Must've been rough."

Hylla grunted.

Percy scratched his chin. His focus lasered in on a specific meal in the menu. "Before, when we were with Myrr, it sounded like you know who the sorceress is. But you haven't said her name once."

A sigh made him look up. Hylla kept grooming her brow. "Names have power. And for a sorceress of her caliber, it isn't hard for her to put special conditions on when her name can be said."

"I don't follow."

"Look, this is just speculation, okay?" Hylla leaned over the table, planting her arm between them. "I know her. She knows me. I used to work for her, actually, on an island resort. But here's the thing: whenever I try to say her name, I completely forget what it is. It just sits at the tip of my tongue."

Percy mirrored her. "So she cast a spell or something? To stop you from saying her name?"

"We think so. Before the murders started, we were able to talk about her just fine. Then one day, it was impossible for any of us to say or write her name."

"So you couldn't tell me what she's called even if you wanted to?"

"Yeah, that's basically the long and short of it."

"What, you can't even give me a hint?"

Hylla smirked. "Actually, that's just what I was about to do. Since you're a Greek demigod, I'm sure you know all about the story of Odysseus, right?"

Percy raised an eyebrow at how she specified 'Greek demigod' instead of just calling him a demigod. "Well, I know he fought in the Trojan War. He was the one who came up with the Trojan Horse plan, right?"

"What about after the war, when he was sailing home to Ithaca?"

"He… blinded Polybotes—"

"Polyphemus," Hylla corrected.

"Right. He got stuck on an island with Calypso. He sailed—"

Hylla stopped him. "Okay, he also visited an island before Ogygia. It belonged to a sorceress. She turned his men into pigs after feeding them."

Turning people into pigs? That sounded familiar to Percy's mind. It was ringing bells, but those bells didn't translate neatly into something he could use.

 _A sorceress who'd met Odysseus on an island._

He picked at his thumbnail as he tried to remember more about that scenario.

Unfortunately, a single semester of Greek Mythology as a Freshman didn't exactly prepare him for these kinds of things.

"Can I phone a friend? Ask the audience? What're my lifelines in this situation?"

Hylla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why did I get stuck with this guy of all people?"

"Look, sorry I'm not trivia-savvy or anything." Percy's ears had gone warm from the flat stare Hylla gave him. "I mean… as long as I know she's dangerous, I can be more careful, right?"

"That's one way to look at it."

They waited for the waitress to come around. Percy scrunched his face. "Are the fish tacos any good here?"

"Dunno." Hylla took out a small notepad from her jacket. A golf pencil was tucked in the wire binding on top of the notepad. "Never tried them."

Percy watched as she flipped to an empty page and started to scribble something down. "Think I should get some?"

"Go for it," she shrugged, not bothering to spare him an upward glance. "Unfortunately, it's tough to tell when Myrr is joking, so I'll have to treat you to whatever you want."

"Nice!"

"Within reason!" Hylla stopped her pencil. She glared at him. "Don't think this gives you a free pass to financially ruin me."

"But… but…" Percy flipped the menu over and pointed, "but the red king crab legs! Look, look, they even have cioppino! And clam chowder! Hylla, please, just this once, don't cockblock me from this kind of heaven."

"Huh?" Hylla leaned her head back. "Why're you talking like we do this every other weekend?"

Percy slapped the table. "Don't pretend you aren't interested. Can't you show me some mercy? I've had a rough week."

"Pick something less expensive."

"Go big or go home!"

"Then go home already."

"If I had money and you were hungry, I'd buy you whatever you wanted."

"Sounds like a personal problem. Maybe you shouldn't have let Quintus take your money, then, huh?"

"Do you like flowers? I can give you tons of flowers. Plants too! You want a tree? Guess what? I can grow that. You need a hedge maze? I'll give you a hedge maze. How about shrub sculptures? Have you ever seen a cupid made entirely out of roses?"

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass."

In a last-ditch effort, Percy tried his best to pout, hoping sympathy would be the key.

Hylla just laughed at him. "I had to endure years of my younger sister trying to manipulate me with that look. Sorry to say, she was _much_ cuter than you are."

Percy sighed. "It was worth shot. So that's a 'no' on the king crab legs?"

Rolling her eyes, Hylla said, "If it means that much to you, we can share the legs. I'm not gonna pay sixty dollars for a meal to get nothing."

"Hm," Percy frowned and held his hand over his mouth.

"What do you mean, 'hm'? I'm offering to pay now!"

"Yeah… but I don't like sharing."

Hylla stared at him, then narrowed her eyes. "You're messing with me."

Percy grinned. "It's a lot of fun."

Hylla went to say something, but a waitress slid over to their table just in time, setting down two glasses of water. "Hey there guys, can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Ginger ale, please," Hylla started. "I'm getting queasy talking to this guy."

"O-okay," the waitress gave them a nervous back-and-forth flick of her eyes. "And for you, sir?"

"I'll have what she's having. And we're ready to order if it isn't too much trouble," Percy smiled at the waitress.

"Of course not. What can I get started for you?"

Percy gestured for Hylla to order first. She made a face at him and said, "The king crab legs and a wagyu burger for me."

"And can I get a cup of the clam chowder with the heart of romaine salad?" Percy closed his menu. "Thanks."

The waitress left.

The man who'd sat down earlier, only four tables down, stood up. His eyes were locked on them. Percy realized Hylla couldn't see him because the table wasn't actually directly across from them, but was pushed back just a little bit, meaning he was out of her peripheral vision.

"What's up with that guy?" Percy asked, nodding with his head toward the man.

Hylla turned to look at him. She gasped. "Hector!"

The man, Hector, gave them one last inscrutable look, then flicked his foot under the chair he'd been sitting in. He kicked the chair up, then kicked it forward. It sped through the air, and the only reason it didn't take Hylla's head off was her quick reaction to plant her face on the table, dodging the lacquered rosewood as it smashed through the window.

Percy slid out of the booth and chucked his glass of water.

Hector sidestepped, kicking another chair their way.

Hylla had gotten out of the booth now too. She dragged Percy down to avoid Chair #2 as it shattered against the wall he'd been in front of.

"So it is you," Hector crossed his arms. "Your former employer asked me to speak with you, little lady."

"Funny way you have of getting someone's attention," Hylla shot back, still crouching down to avoid more incoming projectiles.

Percy realized the restaurant was mostly silent. He peeked around to find nobody in the room. While it hadn't been crowded before, now, the entire dining area had been abandoned. Dirty plates and used napkins were piled on the tables as a reminder that people were once there.

Hector shrugged. "I wanted to make sure I would be addressing the correct person. After all, our mutual master told me about your combat prowess. My method proved to be the best, did it not?"

"She isn't my master. I've chosen a different path."

"And she's disappointed in that."

"Heartbreaking... but not my problem."

Percy smirked at Hylla's snark.

"She wants you to join her again," Hector took a step forward. He was a tall, sturdy man with deep olive skin and short curly hair. His face was solid and square. Around his neck was a rustic wood carving of a cloud, looped with a basic string to keep it in place. "Her wish is for her to continue your education in the art of sorcery."

"And so she sent a dead man to ask me? That's so like her. I can respect her power, but she's a coward, and between you and me, Hector, I prefer a good melee over casting magic any day."

The man sighed. "She thought you might say that. But she's still offering you this chance. It seems she is quite confident that the Amazons will lose to her in this little squabble. Not that I would blame her for believing such. I was merely the first soul she perverted for her own uses. The second she brought back…"

Hylla tensed. "Who is it?"

"Come with me and you'll find out."

"Or you can just tell me, and we might not send you back to the Underworld."

Hector laughed. "You would be doing me a favor if that's your idea of a punishment. I have no desire to remain here for any longer than I've been chained. Free me, and I'll be very grateful."

Percy's hand went to the knife at his waist. Hylla must have noticed because she touched his arm, holding it in place.

"Hector, if you don't want to work for her, why don't you just quit?"

"I cannot. Her magic is formidable, to say the least of it. I am in quite the predicament. Her orders are nigh absolute. A pity, as otherwise I'd have stuck her with my sword and listened to her squeal like the pigs she seems to be so fond of."

When Hylla stood up, Percy followed, though a bit more cautiously. He wasn't partial to having his head taken off by flying chairs. Or by anything, really. He liked his head attached to his neck, just above his shoulders. That was its home. It would be cruel to drag his head away from home.

Thankfully, Hector didn't decide to kick more chairs their way. Instead, he walked to the nearest table with food still on it. Deftly picking up a random plate, he downed what was left, sliding it right into his gullet. He wiped the grease from his mouth and grabbed an open mug of beer, drinking until the suds were gone.

Hylla wrinkled her nose when Hector belched. "Your master knew I wasn't going to join her. So why did she even send you?"

"To let the offer stand, of course. The time will come when you find the situation impossibly tipped in her favor. With two warriors, she can already wipe out your kingdom, that of the Amazons." Hector set the mug down. "I personally slew thousands of invading Greek soldiers. Out of necessity, mind you, as I would never allow my home to fall so long as I drew breath and invaders planted their feet on our shores, setting their tents on our beaches, laying siege to our city. So can you tell me how you would fair in a battle against myself? It is not my will to ruin the lives of the innocent, but in this certain situation, I cannot say who is and who isn't an innocent, at least, not while I am bound, since therein lies the fault of my will, undetermined by my weak heart to be taken and twisted, perverted until I see a stranger every time I look into a mirror."

"Thanks for giving me the message, then," Hylla nodded. "But you killed three of ours. You're not innocent here, Hector. This time, you're the invader, and we'll be the ones to drive you back to hell."

Percy had to admit, she sounded pretty cool saying that with such a strong tone of voice. She seemed sure of herself. Confident, but without arrogance. She must have had a great grasp of her own abilities in every aspect.

Hector's face had dropped from easily amiable to a drawn frown. He didn't so much as look at them more than he looked beyond them, probably lost in his own thoughts.

Hylla took that moment to attack. A sword had, somehow, shimmered from gold dust into her hand. With a push, she took off, rolling over top of a table. Her hand latched to the opposite end so that when she was on the other side, all she had to do was heave her body down and pull. The table flipped end-over-end as it raced through the air.

The whole scene was beautiful. Hylla's elegant brutality came with grunts of exertion. Percy would have said that as soon as Hector smashed the table to pieces with a fist, they might be in a bad spot, but Hylla wasn't deterred as she grabbed a plate and flung it at the older man like a frisbee.

Hector brought his arm up. The plate shattered on his wrist, drawing a growl from him. Ceramic shards flew into his face, which he turned to shield his eyes, and a line of red was printed onto his skin from a sharper piece when it raced by.

Hylla spun around the last table separating her from Hector, drawing her sword up. The blade's edge barely nicked his forehead, as he'd already pulled away.

A dagger coalesced from gold mist into Hylla's other hand. She slashed, her dagger burying itself into Hector's elbow. With her leg, she buckled one of his knees, then brought her foot across his jaw, sending him reeling to the floor. She tried to stab him, but he continued his tumble across the ground, rolling until he was a good distance away before standing, his hand tearing the dagger from his arm.

"You may have killed thousands of Greeks," Hylla went for him again. The cutlass in her hand swept close to his throat, then it nearly impaled his stomach, and soon after, it almost cut off his arm. With each swing, she went for a part of him which he found hard to protect at that moment, following the last means of retreat he'd taken. "But the first demigod you faced—Achilles—he was the one to do you in. We're a breed apart, Hector!"

"And yet," Hector grinned through gritted teeth, "I still bested three of you!"

He knocked a table over. Hylla had to jump over it, but in doing so, she left herself open.

The flow of their fight halted there. Percy didn't know what it was—between Hector recovering from any initial surprise, to Hylla just getting sloppy—but the tides shifted.

Hector got past the cutlass' point. The inner crook of his foot caught Hylla by her heel, so when he pulled his leg in, she stumbled back, thrown off balance. Even though she tried to hold him at bay with another swing, he'd already broken her guard, and his other leg came up to slam into her ribs.

Hylla crashed through one of the main windows and Hector followed her outside, which left Percy alone in the restaurant.

Taking the chance, he breathed. Everything he'd seen hadn't even been everything that had happened in the span of that fifteen-second exchange. Some of it was lost to him, just flashes of movement, no consideration for someone who might want to save the memory for later.

 _Ah, crap, I probably shouldn't let her die,_ he grimaced.

Knife in hand, he ran out the front entrance just in time to see Hylla cut into Hector's side. Blood splattered the pier.

Percy went to stab Hector in the back, Brutus-style, but couldn't see an opening with Hylla constantly executing some seriously aggressive maneuvers. He tried to move with them, only to find their fight to be an erratic mess of back and forth stutter steps. Trying to keep his distance may also have put him in a bad position, since being seen would, effectively, ruin the element of surprise in the art of backstabbing.

And, okay, shoving a knife into someone's spine wasn't exactly honorable in his opinion, but it sure beat dying. So if he were given the opportunity, yeah, he'd take it, with maybe a slight sting to his pride.

He was about to give up the search, when suddenly, Hylla made another mistake, fooled by a well-hidden series of feints, unable to keep track of Hector's limbs as they came at her like a blur of motion. She was caught by a crushing spin kick, and skid down the pier until she tumbled onto the sidewalk.

Percy went in. He tried to be as quick and quiet as possible, hoping the waves lapping against the low sea wall would be enough to hide the sound of his steps. Rain peppered him as the wind pushed it into a flurry.

His hand shot out, the knife pointed to pierce the place between Hector's shoulder blades.

But he should have known better than to think things would work out so nicely. As the knife's point came some odd inches from Hector's back, the man whirled around and caught Percy's wrist.

"Good try."

Hector lifted Percy and threw him into Hylla.

"Do you need some time to come up with a strategy?" Hector flexed his arm out, wincing. "You surprised me, and that is all. Now I won't let my guard down around you, little lady. If you were hoping to defeat me, doing so while I'd been caught unaware would have been your only, singular, true hope, as with each move you make, I can see that although you have excellent reflexes, agility, strength, and technique, all of those pale in comparison to mine, so the window of victory for you has drastically dropped, like a cup of water being emptied into the sea, lost forever."

"We've got a poet on our hands here," Percy rubbed his aching wrist. "Any good plans to take him down?"

"It's true we don't have an advantage without surprise…" Hylla held her hand out. The dagger that she'd lodged in Hector's arm, which he'd let fall, dissolved into mist and reappeared in her palm. She looked at Percy intently. "He knows what I can do, but I bet he doesn't know much of anything about you."

"Gonna have to work on my street cred if that's the case."

Hylla cracked a smirk. "Would you be more comfortable if I got you close to some trees?"

Percy stared at Hector, who squinted at the sky, letting the water run down his face. "I don't think he's gonna follow us if we run."

Hylla frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Call it a gut feeling. But if I were a betting man—which I totally am, by the way—then I'd bet the sorceress hasn't told him to kill us."

"Huh, now that you mention it…" She hummed and slid her foot back across the wet cement. "If he wanted to, he could've killed you when he clinched you back there."

Percy coughed. "Well… I wouldn't go _that_ far. I mean, I would have broken his hold if he tried anything."

Hylla pursed her lips. "Sure you would've."

" _Anyway_ , I don't think we have to keep fighting him. If we took off now—"

"We'd play right into their hands," Hylla interrupted him quickly. "Running away while he's hurt will come back to bite us in the ass. It's better to deal with him now than wait for him to recover. And trust me, if he goes back to the sorceress, she'll have him healed up in no time."

Percy looked at Hector's arm and side. Those kinds of wounds weren't something a person could easily shrug off. But was Hector even an average human anymore? He'd been brought back from the dead by a goddess with magic. It wasn't a stretch to imagine she'd gone all Dr. Frankenstein and created some kind of super-powerful undead monster.

As long as Hector didn't start looking for a bride things wouldn't cross into eerily familiar territory.

"Well? You in or out?" Hylla had gotten into her stance again.

He supposed there wasn't anything for it. Taking the datura from his ear, he rolled the half-cut stem between his fingers. The decision on what to do with his only source of ammo wasn't an easy one. Options presented themselves to him the longer he thought, and he figured it would only be a matter of time until Hylla took his silence as a negative.

With a bit of guidance, he changed the datura, inducing a rapid switch in the plant's physiology so that its capsaicin levels spiked, making it closer to a very dangerous chili pepper. Opening his mouth, he tossed the flower inside, and after letting some rainwater pool beneath his tongue, started to chew. It was a good thing he liked spicy food because as soon as he pulped the datura, his mouth caught fire. "Lesh duewitt."

Her grin satisfied him. "Now that's the kind of decisiveness I like in a guy. But please don't talk with your mouth full."

Hector snapped his head back down when they rushed him. "Attacking two at once, while smart, can lead to unfortunate accidents when both aggressors carry such close-quarter weapons."

Without using his injured arm, Hector kept pace with Hylla's wide range of stabs and slashes. Though she prevented him from grappling with her, a few of his attempts came close. When he got too close, she would prod him away with her dagger, managing to stay clear of danger, if just barely.

Before Percy could join, Hector rammed his forehead into Hylla's face.

Off balance, she couldn't stop Hector from knocking her away with a stiff right cross.

"And what do you have up your sleeve, boy?" Hector lazily drifted between Percy's attacks. He stopped a downward thrust and grabbed Percy's arm. "Since you aren't as good a fighter as the girl, I expect some sort of superb power—"

Percy whipped his head forward and sprayed the bitter, burning hot mix of saliva, water, and modified datura into Hector's eyes.

"What?!" Hector screamed. He reeled, hands going to his face.

"Improvised pepper spray," Percy said, his lips and tongue prisoners to flaming agony. "Never leave home without it."

Hector growled. Though his eyes were scrunched tight, he dropped to the ground, then spun around with his leg out, knocking Percy clean off his feet. "Foolish child. If you aim to blind someone, don't speak and give your position away immediately after the deed has been struck!"

The hero took a step.

As his foot fell, he froze.

Percy watched as the full length of Hylla's cutlass poked out of Hector's chest.

"And you shouldn't have forgotten about the other fighter," Hylla said, pulling her sword out and swiping it right through his neck.

Hector toppled, head rolling off his shoulders to hit the ground with a meaty _thump_. Blood spilled onto the concrete. The rain helped spread and dilute it, until longer fingers of red crept into the cracks, falling into the nearest storm drain where the pavement dipped.

"Did we just—" Percy scrambled back when Hector's body burst into rich blue flames. Soon, there wasn't anything left except for the puddles of blood he'd already shed. "Did we just… kill a legend?"

The image of Hector's decapitation would probably stick with him for the rest of his life. His mouth, though still painfully buzzing, felt sour.

Hylla stared at the ground where Hector had been. Part of her jaw was red—the place Hector punched. "I think so. Is it just me, or did that feel…"

"Easy?" he suggested. The word came to him because it was precisely what he'd been thinking. Hector… a hero Percy actually recognized by name alone. He fought against the Greeks for most of the Trojan war. While he had a lot of Greek rivals during that time regarding reputation, like Odysseus, Diomedes, and Ajax, the best-known comparison drawn with Hector went to Achilles.

"Too easy," Hylla nodded. Her sword and dagger dissolved into gold dust. "Myrr had sent a group of seven to investigate Lake Sammamish. Three died, the other four came back seriously injured. I didn't see what happened first hand, but those girls aren't fresh-faced recruits, so when they say the fight was laughably one-sided, I believe them."

She rubbed her jaw tenderly. "So I don't get it."

Percy picked himself up off the ground. His clothes were, again, soaked through. A chill seeped into his bones. "Maybe we're just that awesome?"

"I hate to say it," she sniffed, "but no. If he was under orders not to kill us, then he had no choice but to hold back, right? It makes sense he wouldn't fight like he did before."

"As expected!"

The voice sliced into the air like lightning. Electricity charged the atmosphere. Gnarled claws of dread pierced Percy's skin, digging into his body like hooks to keep him from moving, from running, and from breathing. The blood in his veins froze.

Floating over Pier 54, twenty feet above the top of B.A.G.S.O.C.K, a pale, sable-haired woman in a blindingly white dress smiled down at Hylla and Percy.

"You never cease to impress, Hylla-dear," the woman spread her arms benevolently, like an angel ready to give someone a big hug. "Bringing down a great hero of old while barely taking a scratch! I always knew I'd gotten someone special when you sought refuge at my resort."

Apprehension hung heavy of Hylla's face. "So you've decided to come out of hiding."

"Hiding? Dear, I was simply saving my strength for the future. Conserving energy. Do you have any idea how much magical power is required to keep one of the Big Three from ruining my plans? No, of course you don't. But as the chief sorceress through the generations, let me say: I can only do so much."

The sorceress wagged her finger. "And speaking of ruining plans… I can't say I'm thrilled with you destroying my good Trojan warrior. Six willingly sacrificed lives. Six souls in order to fuel my vessel and tether the essence of just _one_ spirit already in the Underworld. Now I only have one puppet left. Disappointment abounds."

"You once told me getting involved with the outside world was beyond your interests," Hylla said. She gestured at the disappearing puddle of blood. "So what gives? Why the sudden change?"

The sorceress laughed softly. Somehow, the noise carried like the shrill call of a crow. "You speak as if you don't already know the answer to that."

Hylla frowned. "It was my home too."

"And I was your caretaker. Yet you act as if it never mattered to you. Not me, not the island, nothing. What conclusion should I draw from that, Hylla-dear?"

"Of course I appreciated what you did for us. But I wasn't going to bitch and moan about what happened while I had to take care of Reyna. I didn't have that luxury."

"You were always tough," the sorceress smiled. Her face had nothing but warmth and pride. "And your time with Mr. Teach seems to have bolstered that formidable tenacity. My, my, my. You are so strong. Surviving your father, the pirates, all of those monsters I let loose, and now even the great Trojan hero!"

The way Hylla's mouth twisted and her eyes narrowed gave her a fearsome look. "I vouched for you, back when you first came here. I told the queen that you weren't a threat to us."

"Oh? Did you? Well, thank you, then, if your words gave me more time to work on this project of mine. Maybe all the pain and loneliness in your life hasn't quite hardened your heart enough."

"What are you doing here?" Hylla clipped out. "You aren't the kind to meet her enemies in person."

"I'll give you partial credit for that answer," the sorceress swiped her hand through the rain. A glowing blue symbol floated out, shaped like a hexagon with lines connecting each inner vertex. "But you forget, I tend to bare my fangs when I have the advantage. _Perun._ "

"MOVE!" Hylla roared.

Percy's hair stood on end. As soon as he'd seen the symbol pop up, his legs had already started to work. Hylla shouting at him was only the icing on the cake.

A peal of thunder followed the stab of lightning that melted the sidewalk where they had been standing.

"Good reaction, dear!" the sorceress cooed. A new symbol was in front of her, this one a thrumming orange-red, shaped like a swastika. "But can you handle _Svarog_ as well as _Perun_?"

Fire poured out of the symbol.

Percy couldn't move. He'd never seen or felt fire so horribly intense. The wave of flame roiled almost like water, acting like some kind of impossible liquid. It was tinged with yellow, blue, green, purple, and every color he could imagine, the glimpses he caught eventually being drowned out by red and orange. He knew that if that fire touched him, he'd be done for. But even so, his legs had suddenly turned to stone. Every muscle crystallized. He could hardly breathe.

Hylla grabbed Percy and pulled him with her, half dragging him away from the wonderfully terrible fire until his legs started working again. The flames still lingered in his brain as they pounded down the sidewalk. He could still feel the heat searing his skin, boiling his blood, cooking his insides.

"Running won't do you any good! If you won't join me again, Hylla, I'll have no choice but to kill you." The sorceress warped in front of them, her body rising from a mass of deep blue smoke. "So you can dodge _Perun_ and run from _Svarog_. But your evasion will do nothing against _Chernobog_! How can you run from darkness when it falls on everything at some point? Even the sun will fade eventually. Hope, like the sun, will fade. _Your hope will fade_."

Another symbol appeared, its shape more distinctly difficult to describe than the other two. Lines crossed and bent and ended to make a rhombus with pincers at each point. Black, the symbol ate light, making Percy feel like part of his vision was gone.

The strength slowly left him. His knees buckled. He didn't want to fight anymore. All the running, the fighting, the resistance; it was all pointless. The sorceress was too powerful. She could just keep casting those strange symbols, creating horrifying fire or summoning lightning as if she were some street magician doing card tricks. How was he supposed to fight against that? Why would he even want to?

Hylla grabbed his shoulders, reared her fist back, and threw a solid uppercut to his chin.

In his skull, he felt his brain rattle, a sharp pain bringing him back from some oddly distant place where darkness lingered. He blinked, feeling warm blood ooze from the inner part of his cheek.

"Don't give up on me now," Hylla gave him a uniquely intense glare. "She's combining charmspeak and _Chernobog_ to kill your will to live. But I don't think I can beat her on my own here, so hold on for a few more minutes before you off yourself, alright?"

Percy winced as his senses crashed into him again. He realized they weren't on the sidewalk to the waterfront anymore. Instead, they were hiding behind a pillar under the viaduct, just across the street from a filled parking lot. Hylla must have pulled him along when he spaced out.

"What… where did the sorceress go?" he asked, nervously glancing around.

"Here," the sorceress said, appearing off to their left. She floated down to the pavement. "Now, Hylla-dear, would you mind giving up on this foolish act of rebellion? That you haven't countered any of my very basic Slavic sigil commands is deeply disturbing. It just proves you shouldn't be fighting me! I won't be mad if you've forgotten what I taught you, especially since I know magic isn't your strongest suit."

"As if I'd go with the person who's tried to kill me twice in the past five minutes," Hylla said, the cutlass coming back to her hand.

The sorceress shrugged. "What can I say? You've been giving me a hard time."

Hylla glanced at Percy. "Sorry about this," she said, curling her fingers at him.

A new weight settled on his back. Fatigue struck him hard and fast. His bones ached. His eyes almost slammed shut. There was also something else along with the physical pressure. A grinding melancholy inflated inside him, along with guilt and a healthy dash of self-loathing. That made it hard to concentrate on what was happening right in front of him, but he did anyway.

With a breath, Hylla had cut the distance between herself and the sorceress down to nothing. Thirty feet in just a second or two. Her sword arced in a flash of gold. It was a great swing to end her rapid dash, and it should have been what finished the sorceress right there.

But the sorceress must have expected the sudden attack. She had leaped back, taking to the air so she could look down on them again from a safe place.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I figured you would take some of that boy's power. Come now, Hylla, just who do you think I am?"

Hylla growled. "Get down here and find out for yourself."

"I think I'll stay right here. Now, what to use next? Magic is so flexible, so compatible with any situation, that sometimes I find myself with too many options on how to deal with troublesome children. And, of course, having studied so much magic from so many sources… I really find myself at a loss on what to do."

The sorceress paused. A snarl etched onto her beautiful face, turning it ugly. Then, it snapped back to its pleasant form. "I'm sorry, dear. It seems I have some rather unsavory business to attend at the moment. Please, if you change your mind about my offer, don't hesitate to come by Lake Sammamish. I have a nice operation going there, now. It's too bad all these rumors about that Ted Bundy fellow are making potential customers stay away. Alas, such is the suffering of a sorceress."

Without further fanfare, the sorceress vanished into a waft of drifting blue smoke.

Percy slumped, holding himself up by leaning heavily on the pillar. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. Despite his weariness, he kept his eyes open and ears strained. It suddenly struck him that nobody was paying them any attention. Cars were passing by on the road, and pedestrians kept walking, but they all studiously ignored Percy and Hylla.

"Sorry about that." Hylla jogged over, grabbing him by the arm. "Didn't have time to really warn you or anything. You alright?"

The strength came back to Percy's body. His muscles loosened, and the dull throb behind in his sinuses cleared out. Now that he was able to move easier, he pulled away from Hylla, not sheathing the knife in his hand.

"What did you do to me?" His fingers tightened.

Hylla winced. "It… um… it's a mutually beneficial loss-gain ability. My mother is a war goddess, and well, this technique is part of her set—"

"Layman's terms, Hylla."

"Okay… I can take part of your strength and add it to my own, or give part of my strength to you."

Percy watched her for another few seconds, then put his knife away. "So that's why I felt so tired. You went all Dracula on me and drained my strength."

Hylla raised her hands. "H-hold on! When you put it like that… I… it's not as vampiric or parasitic as it sounds!"

"Sure," he drawled, "whatever helps you sleep at night. Look, if it's all the same to you, just please don't do it again. At least not without giving me a heads-up. I was starting to freak out back there."

"Of course." Hylla nodded once. "I'm sorry for springing it on you without a warning or anything. We just didn't have the time…"

"I get it. The situation definitely wasn't going in our favor. Still, if we're gonna work together, I'm gonna have to set some ground rules for something like that, okay? It's just a bit too… uh… weird."

She gave him an abashed smile at that. "Sounds like a plan. Hey, uh, thanks for not, like, completely flipping out on me."

"Has that happened before?"

"Unfortunately."

Percy hummed. He wouldn't lie, it wasn't exactly a relaxing feeling, but he doubted Hylla did it out of any harmful intention. She didn't seem like the type of person to do that. So what else could he do but give her the benefit of the doubt?

"Well, I won't hold it against you. Like I said, we'll set some boundaries and boom, no more problems, right?" Percy smiled. "But first, we have more important things to worry about."

Hylla nodded. "We should get back to Myrr and tell her what happened."

Percy shook his head. "No, it's even more important than that."

Hylla cocked her eyebrow, gesturing for him to go on.

"I'm still hungry." Percy shrugged. "And you know what? I think I'll settle for tacos or something at this point."

* * *

 **A/N: New semester means less leisure time. Thanks for bearing with me, folks. I also know I didn't respond to a lot of the reviews for last chapter, which isn't cool. I do want to thank everyone who sends their feedback, and I do encourage it. I'll try not to let that happen again, or often.**

 **Anyway, if you didn't catch, I'm on Discord. One place I hang out at is a server with a bunch of other authors and fans, which you can join through this link:** **JHvHAn2.**

 **I also have another chat room that a fan made for me since I'm completely inept with what's cool and trending these days. This server is for my stories specifically, so if you have questions or an undying hatred for me, we can talk it over through this link: dpDv6Ym.**


	13. Game, Set, Match

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.**

* * *

13\. Game, Set, Match

* * *

"Mmm, and the tortilla! Hylla, the tortilla is so good! Warm, crispy, but still flexible and tough enough to hold the contents." Percy popped the last piece of his taco into his mouth. "Those are some seriously great tacos. What's the place called again?"

Hylla was grinning at him. "Tacos Chukis. It's good, right?"

Percy sighed. "So good."

She nodded as the light turned green.

The car smelled like meat and corn tortillas now. Opening the windows meant letting the rain in, though, and honestly, Percy didn't mind the scent. At least now his stomach was full, and he was nice and content.

They drove down East Broadway, a wide street serviced by electric trolleybuses, with long sections of overhead wires running down perpendicular roads and further along the street. Traffic here felt heavier than back in the downtown district, which Percy didn't think made sense, but he was no traffic connoisseur so he wouldn't know the intricacies of public and private transportation.

The radio was tuned to channel 94.9, a local station from the nearby University of Washington. The broadcast had statements from the chief of police in neighboring city Bellevue regarding the murders at Lake Sammamish. The chief warned people not to be alone in the area by the lake at night since that was when police believed most people went missing.

Once the news segment ended, some soft music came on.

Percy put his elbow on the door's armrest, chin in his palm. His eyes wandered in conjunction with his mind.

"You mentioned you had a sister," he blurted out. The reason for his speaking was lost on him since it would be idle small talk. But he was the kind of person who needed to fill the quiet with something before he went crazy. Long silences made him uncomfortable.

Hylla looked at him oddly. "I did."

Wincing, he decided it would be too awkward if he just left it at that. "You said younger, right?"

"Yes."

Man, this was going worse than he'd imagined. She was giving him nothing to work with. Maybe he should have stopped there, seeing as she clearly didn't have much to say on the subject. But he was in too deep. "So… how old is she?"

The light just ahead of them turned red. Hylla slowed to a stop.

"Thirteen. Fourteen in a few months."

Percy nodded. "Cool… cool. Yeah, I remember when I was thirteen. Good times."

They waited for the light to turn green again.

"Is she an Amazon too?" Percy asked.

Hylla started to glare at him from the corner of her eye. "No."

Normally, Percy was partial to leaning away from these kinds of confrontations. He didn't like making people upset with him if he could consciously avoid doing so. Now, though, he was feeling particularly confident in a peculiar sort of way, which helped him ask what he wanted to ask.

"Where is she then?"

Her lips thinned. "California."

The light was _still_ red. Why in the world was the light still red? Percy felt even more uncomfortable now, as they simply sat, dead on the road, with the thrum of an engine and the sound of strings being plucked on a guitar filling the cabin.

Through the windshield, Percy spotted a dark figure jump from the top of a distant building. He squinted as the spot grew larger.

He then saw the wings.

"What in Carmen Sandiego…"

"Gryphon!" Hylla unbuckled her seatbelt. "Get out!"

Percy did as she said, throwing himself out of the car right as the monster's rear legs—which were like a lion's—smashed through the front windshield. The gryphon dug the sharp talons of its front eagle legs into the car's top.

It screeched at them, the eagle head turning to Hylla first. It leaped from the car and tried to gouge her with its talons.

Hylla rolled away, her cutlass forming as she came up.

Percy slid over the hood of the car. Around them were trees on the sidewalk, lining the street. Though they were bare for the winter, they were alive. That's all Percy needed.

"Get it to take off!" he shouted at Hylla.

"Why?!"

"Just trust me!"

She gave him a skeptical nod and ran at the monster. It was a reckless charge, and in the process of attacking, she failed to avoid the gryphon's beak. The monster was faster than its body showed.

Her cutlass gave it a minor cut on its front leg, but a chunk of her jacket was torn off, along with a bit of skin from her shoulder.

The gryphon shrieked and leaped back, the steady beat of its wings taking it away from Hylla. Just as it went to circle overhead, Percy swung his arm, attention split between the trees closest to them and the monster's position.

At once, the branches of each tree lunged at the gryphon. The monster was impaled by a dozen pointed tips of wood, its body exploding into gold dust above them.

Percy sneezed when the remains tickled his nose. "Gross. I'm breathing monster ash."

"That was a good call back there. You really _are_ good with plants." Hylla winced as she examined her bloody shoulder.

"Yeah, well," Percy looked at her injury, grimacing. "It's kind of my main conceit. I'm not a great fighter like you or Thalia. But I've gotta be good at something, right?"

She looked at him oddly. "Self-deprecation doesn't suit you."

"Really? I always thought it suited me best. Like a fine Armani two-piece—black—with a red patterned tie, and a pair of Stacy Adams wing-tip oxfords."

"Is now really the time to be making jokes?" Hylla gestured at the gathering crowd. Thankfully, the people were busy staring at the trees, which still hadn't gone back to normal, their branches crisscrossing above the street, barely having avoided the trolley lines.

Percy shrugged. "Hey, if you're willing to be the straight-man, I think we have potential."

"Potential for what?"

"A buddy cop show. I'll be the dashing, handsome young rookie with a chip on his shoulder. You can be the grizzled war vet who became a cop after learning his wife was pregnant."

Hylla squinted. "Wait, wait, wait… why am I a guy in the show?"

Percy hummed. "Because it's a parody?"

"That doesn't sound convincing at all. Why would you make it a question and ask me if you're the one who came up with the idea?"

"Okay, but you already know the perfect lines! You were born for this role. I bet you'd look great in front of the camera! You've got a very flattering profile."

Hylla rolled her shoulder, pained. "Why did it have to be you of all people? Let's just get out of here."

"Yo, but Myrr can be the hard-ass captain who's lost too many officers in the line of duty already..."

"How did we get on this topic? Please, remind me again, because I'm so... I'm just so lost."

Percy glanced at the gathering crowd. "I'll explain as we go."

 **«White Cut»**

At Percy's insistence, they moved into the nearby Cal Anderson Park.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

"This is nothing. Fought a group of Cyclopes a month ago; one of them broke three of my ribs with a right hook. I'll be fine."

Percy felt his stomach turn. "Uh, good to know."

"Why are we here?" Hylla asked as they climbed up the cement stairs.

Percy ran a hand through some rose bushes behind a handrail. Thorns on the stems sank back into the plant as his fingers neared, making sure not to cut him. Flowers, pink, white, and red, bloomed from newly grown bulbs, making the bush spring to life with color.

He took a breath. Nature here fought with him. But not because it was wild.

No, there was something else.

At the top of the stairs, he could see directly across from him, where a small church rose over some nearby condominiums and apartments. The sett had turned to gravel beneath him. A guitar was still being strummed, able to be made out over the sound of rain falling on the ground and bushes.

"Cal Anderson Reflecting Pool," Hylla said, nodding at a long pool of water to their right. At the end of the shallow basin was a squat building with graffiti painted on its gray stone.

She then pointed to their left, at another pool, and said, "Lincoln Reservoir."

Unlike the reflecting pool, the reservoir was being fed with water via a manmade trough. Sitting up a short incline was a ten-foot-tall flat-topped cone.

And there, resting with one leg hanging off the edge of the cone, a man lazily strummed a… harp?

"This dude brought a harp with him?" Percy scratched his head. "Top tier dedication right there."

Hylla squinted at the man, sword in hand again. They hadn't brought any nectar or ambrosia from Amazon H.Q., so her shoulder was still exposed, though the blood was mostly dried.

"The day has been set for another great story!" Harp Guy shot to his feet, swinging the instrument around like he was playing with a baby. "Wonderful! Good news! A plan well executed! Two heroes so have answered my call. But between the two groups, you both and I, who will fall? Answer me first, good sir!"

Percy pointed to himself questioningly. When the man nodded, he said, "Um… can I get the question again?"

Harp Guy hummed, then snapped his fingers and nodded. "Aha! An epiphany! This sudden dawning of knowledge! Cry out, for the sun does so cut through gloom as this idea strikes me past walls of ignorance! You, good sir, I thank you for your input. Now I turn the question to the good madam! The sorceress has told me of you. Please, enlighten me."

Hylla gave him a straight answer. "If you work for her, then you should know we've already crushed your pal Hector. It isn't a stretch to imagine doing the same with you."

"Ah! A fair assumption for a fair lady! But is that how the story is going to play out?" Harp Guy shrugged grandly. "I don't believe so. Wouldn't you agree it makes more sense for a tragic hero such as myself to come out on top for once? And the audience! Well, the audience often enjoys idyllic stories of redemption don't they?"

"Tragic hero, eh?" Hylla raised her sword. "Which one? I mean, there're just so many out there."

"Shock!" Harp Guy gasped and shouted at the same time. "My emotion can only be shock, correct? Yes, I am electrified by your youthful lightning. Egads, eish, eh, and ah! I can do nothing but exclaim this shock to the world. How a person can listen to my music for so long and not realize who I am… a sin, or a virtue? Pride, or humbleness? Calm, or wrath? A choice not easily made! Tell me, good sir, if I were to call myself the greatest musician, what name would you prescribe to me? I am simply aching to my core for this knowledge!"

Percy stopped playing with a nearby patch of daisies. He'd only been half-listening to what Harp Guy was saying, but understood the gist of it. "Greatest musician… I'm gonna have to guess… Squeeze-A-Song Elmo?"

Hylla choked down her laughter, shoulders shaking heavily at trying to keep it in.

Harp Guy pointed his instrument at Percy. "A fair shake at it! Tell me, is this… Squeeze-A-Song Elmo a great musician of this era?"

"Yeah, totally, he's super popular." Percy nodded, his lips begging to curl up into a smile. "He's, uh, second to none."

"Excellent! Then I shall make this my new goal: find and defeat Squeeze-A-Song Elmo in a musical duel!" Harp Guy grinned broadly. "Let him fear me. Hear me! Fear the voice that can bring even gods to heel, Squeeze-A-Song Elmo! You will taste naught but utter defeat! I come for you!"

Percy and Hylla looked at each other, openly laughing. Hylla grabbed his shoulder for support as she doubled over.

"I see my words can still bring people great joy as well! Wonderful, wonderful. Unfortunately, my time to discuss the fine details with you has come to an end. Alas, I was hoping to recite a new verse for my enemies!"

The first to recover, Hylla took a deep breath, barely able to stop the short chuckles that still gripped her. Still, she said, "Wait, we, uh, haven't gotten your name yet. And we can't just let you leave."

Percy straightened up. "Yeah, sorry man. It was a good laugh, but if you're working with the sorceress, we have to stop you."

At least here, in the park, Percy felt he could be more useful than at the pier.

With nature around him, he'd be able to call Rana for help.

But there was an underlying tension in the vegetation. He'd noted it before, and now, it popped back up in his mind.

"Names have power, yes? Well, perhaps you will need that power. Eventually, I hope to compose something made from the conflict we shall have! Yes, I see. Very well, if it's a name you desire, it's a name you will get."

The man bowed elegantly. "My name is Orpheus. And I have been given life again to breathe vigor back into this world. Ah, but my sweet Eurydice, wait for me in Elysium 'til I can return! It shall not take long, I believe! But until the time comes for my soul to be whisked back o'er the frigid Styx's waters, allow me to entertain the masses, O mother most necessary."

Hylla shuddered. "Oh… this is bad."

Percy frowned. "Isn't he the dude who tried to get his wife back from the Underworld?"

Hylla bit her lip and nodded. "I don't understand. Is the sorceress really able to shield herself from Hades' view? He should've interfered by now. Bringing back the dead is..."

Orpheus plucked a string on his harp.

The note echoed throughout the park, a sad, horribly painful wail of agony that lanced Percy with pity for the hardships of losing a loved one. The noise lingered for a second, then dispersed, along with the emotion it had carried in its tone.

Percy's heart had wrenched at the even though he'd never actually experienced what Orpheus was trying to convey.

Hylla, on the other hand, had fallen to her knees. Rain cascaded down her face, but Percy was pretty sure tears were racing down in rivulets with the contour of her cheeks. A hand gripped her jacket, the center of her chest, tight and iron-like.

"She's weak of heart…" Orpheus muttered. "She would have failed in the trial set forth by Hades as well. A shame."

The man then turned to Percy. "But you. Between having loved and lost, and never having loved at all… was it by choice, or were you given no say in your experiences, good sir?"

"I have a tragic backstory," Percy shrugged. "Sue me."

"Ah! Tragedy is something I know well," Orpheus ran his finger down the second string on his harp. "If you haven't experienced the pain of love, then perhaps a tribulation of loneliness?"

With that, he flicked the string.

A screech sent Percy staggering back.

Loneliness.

He'd always been alone.

And when he'd tried to give himself a companion, all he'd done was make a monster.

He would always be alone. The song told him as much. Who had been there for him when he'd needed it? He'd never held anybody. He'd never been loved.

Nobody would care if he died, right? Who would?

 _Who?_

Then, like a bolt of lightning, he saw, in his mind's eye, the transitional brightening in his mother's eyes when they spoke. He remembered her smile, and how color seeped into her ghastly visage, as if he were the sun breaking through a cloudy day to shine upon her.

 _She would. Wouldn't she?_

He remembered her soft—albeit cool—skin on his face, and how she'd taken pride in keeping tabs on him. He recalled how she'd trusted him enough to make choices, her confidence in him, and her support.

Percy could see again.

The darkness that had been encapsulating him, tunneling his vision, making him see nothing but deep black, was suddenly pulled back, like a bag being yanked off his eyes.

Hylla was holding her head with both hands, fingers clawed deep against her scalp, pushing past her wet hair. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, firmly rooted to the spot just in front of where she kneeled. Under her breath, a torrent of soft murmurs pressed out like some kind of mantra.

Rain poured down in sheets now. The clouds had darkened.

"Oh-ho! Quite resilient, good sir!" Orpheus shouted over the noise of water pounding the pavement. "I must admit my admiration for someone with your level of mental strength. Sometimes, I might even say, I would be envious, for you do not seem the type to fall into despair like I once did. Nay, no, and not even for a second did I expect for someone to resist the direct influence of my music!"

Percy drew his knife. He called out, "You talk too much!"

Orpheus bellowed with laughter. "That I do! After all, what good is a mute poet? Or a deaf musician? Or a blind painter? Artistry requires dedication and a good sense of worth. Cripples, defuncts, and invalids lack the heart and pride to create something worthy of gods! Bah! Even then—even with a completely able-bodied person—there is nothing worth my time in this era! I will bring a revolution with me. I will bring the gods to heel once again! None will escape the sound of my music. The symphony of an entirely new generation!"

The hero pointed down at Percy. "Observe the culmination of thousands of years of perfecting my artistry after death! See what death can do to a man, and how it can push him to greater heights! Listen! Tremble! I am Orpheus, and though you may slay me, I will never die. Not again. My mark will linger forever, through the ages, until you yourself turn to dust and a new progeny comes forth to bear their own!"

Glancing at the trees around them, Percy took hold of them, bleeding his authority into their bodies. He pushed beyond the bark, into the cambium and sapwood, where so much growth happened.

Branches became long and straight, and hardened until they were lances that promised to skewer Orpheus where he stood.

The man, for all his confidence and eccentricity, stared at the happenings. "Now that is a surprise! Who are you, to control this lovely greenery in such a crude, unapologetic manner? A spawn of the fair cultivator and sower, her ladyship Demeter, perhaps? Yes, that must be it! For a child of Demeter, even this, though? Ah, I must say, this is nothing short of making me green with envy. Such discipline. Such control. Alas, all I can do is… play."

Orpheus ran his fingers along the harp, each string resonating with a soulful echo.

Percy's eyes widened when the lances he'd created bent, cracked, and turned so that all of them aimed at his center of mass.

 _WHAT?!_ His hands rose, and the branches again twisted to point toward Orpheus.

Fingers anxious to twitch and release the lances, Percy felt something wash over his control of the trees. Music. A soothing, melodious instrumental piece that almost made him close his eyes and take a nap.

Struggling with the grogginess in his system, he managed to wave his hand, signaling the branches to fire. With that, Orpheus was skewered by a dozen wooden spears.

 _Is what should have happened!_ Percy ground his teeth together when the trees didn't respond to his gesture. _Why does this always happen to me? Classical music… how did he know my weakness?!_

"That was a very frightening position you put me in, good sir! Usually, nature is my ally in these situations, you see. So to have it turn on me so quickly because of your abilities makes me wary. But I should do well to warn you, I've a knack for soothing everything. Maidens, soldiers, ghosts, and even gods. These things, which have the soul to resist my songs, are much more difficult to deal with than the inanimate." Orpheus kept strumming, fingers weaving patterns on the strings, complex and impossible to track.

"Yeah, well I'm not a maiden, soldier, ghost, or god," Percy narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a kid from Manhattan who happens to be the reigning Galaga champ down at my local arcade. Wanna settle things that way? A friendly game of Pac-Man? First to get eaten by Blinky surrenders?"

"Pac-Man?" Orpheus didn't stop playing his harp.

"Sure! It's got a great theme song. Very tinny."

The man hesitated, and Percy pointed at the closest tree behind the reservoir.

"Rana!"

She burst onto the scene from a young ash tree, arm already extending out like a claw-grabber, her wooden fingers slicing through the air and rain as they reached for Orpheus atop the cone.

"And does the wood ever break?" Orpheus plucked two strings quickly. Rana's hand shattered. "But of course it does. Wood is but one, while my song is many!"

Percy gritted his teeth and launched himself forward. Water nearly blinded him as he raced up the side of the trough. His shoes, which didn't have much traction, slipped on the wet stone, and he fell into the waterway, rolling through the deluge until he managed to sloppily push himself back to his feet, still on the move.

Orpheus grinned and shouted, "YIELD!" His voice scratched the air.

Rain droplets exploded from the sound, making a fine mist from the smaller water particles. The trees bent away from the noise. Even the grass shriveled under his powerful word.

For a second, as the syllable wormed into his ear, Percy slowed down. A sharp pain came from each of his legs as he forced them to move against Orpheus' command.

His feet dragged through the waterway's torrent, the cloth of his pants clinging desperately to his legs, ready to pull him back down the slope if he stopped pushing his muscles forward for even a second.

Then, in the next moment, a sword whistled its way past the left side of his head.

Orpheus didn't dodge fast enough. The blade buried itself in his thigh, all the way to the hilt. The man screamed and toppled from the top of the conical structure, landing hard on the trough as he struggled to stand.

Percy glanced back. Hylla was still kneeling, most of her weight pressing against the small pool wall next to her. Through ragged pants and heaving shoulders, she looked at Percy, then flicked her eyes to Orpheus. Her message was clear as day.

Nodding, Percy forced himself up the waterway. He raised his dagger, aiming to drive it into Orpheus' neck.

But Orpheus didn't cooperate. Sitting back, he yanked Hylla's cutlass out of his leg.

Percy was close now. Too close. They were separated by maybe just a foot. A few inches more and Percy could bend forward to deliver a solid stab.

Orpheus shouted, "YIELD!"

Percy's body slowed down involuntarily. Orpheus used the minute change to swiped the sword across Percy's leg, gouging deep into the area a bit above his kneecap.

The agony had the decency to wait for a second before it set in. When it did, however, Percy figured it was the single worst pain he'd ever felt in his life. It burned like nothing else, as if a portal straight to Hell had been opened inside his thigh. He just barely managed to stifle the scream, making it into a gurgled groan.

Unfortunately, his right leg buckled as blood generously spurted from the gash. He twisted while he fell, driving his shoulder into Orpheus' nose. They both slammed into the cone's slanted wall-face; Orpheus with the back of his head, and Percy with his side.

A few seconds passed where Percy couldn't move. His entire system refused to do anything but focused on that singular torment in his leg. Water poured down on them from the cone's edge, a cold shock in contrast to the flaming agony.

When he felt Orpheus start to pull away, Percy lashed out. His eyes locked on the cutlass, and he went for it.

Orpheus made some kind of noise as he wrestled for the weapon. Percy tried stabbing him with the knife, but Orpheus was strong for a dead musician. His wrist was being held in place by the man, and the knife hovered over empty air, useless even if he dropped it.

Percy felt his perception narrow. His body was heavy. His vision dimmed.

Thunder roared in the distance.

Water kept coming down on them, harder and harder until each raindrop felt like marbles being thrown.

Blood was running down into the waterway.

His right leg burned and stung and just couldn't support him anymore as he wrestled with Orpheus.

But still, his teeth could grind, and his arms felt a little lighter than normal, which meant he wasn't dead yet, for whatever reason, and so he could keep fighting—even if dying probably would have been easier and less painful.

He couldn't die, though.

His promises wouldn't keep themselves, after all.

Chiron and Nico would never forgive him.

 _Never forgive me_.

And word would spread.

 _Like wildfire._

And then nobody would find it in themselves to accept him. He wouldn't be able to call himself a friend to anybody if he couldn't keep a couple of lousy promises.

 _They would never like me._

And so he would still be…

 _And I would still be…_

"YIELD!"

The momentary lapse in Percy's muscles gave Orpheus another opportunity to turn the tide. They rolled over each other, the cutlass clattering out of the trough.

Percy brought his knee between them and pushed the man back. He managed to stand despite the injury to his leg, putting most of his weight elsewhere.

Orpheus slapped his hand through the trough, splashing water into Percy's eyes.

Diving over the pool wall's rise, Orpheus took his harp and strummed two quick notes. "Choke."

Behind him, Percy heard a strangled gasp. He glanced back. Hylla had fallen to the ground.

"Can you not hear my music? Interesting indeed!" Orpheus played two more notes. "Crack!"

The stone beneath them splintered. More mist came as the rain exploded. The pool water rippled.

Percy felt his body stutter, as if he'd just had some particularly lousy stir-fry and his organs tried to reboot from it. He threw his knife. The blade embedded itself into Orpheus' shoulder, just an inch above his clavicle.

"Apparently it is so." A string of staccato syllables followed. "But. You. Still. Have. No. Way. To. Find. A. Win!"

That seemed true. Percy hobbled back, trying to put as little burden on his wounded leg as he could. It hurt like crazy. He couldn't even try to open his mouth without fighting the unrepentant urge to throw up. He could only see what was in front of him. Everything in his periphery vision had dimmed to look like gloomy blobs.

There were two things he could figure to do.

Either bulk up his authority to the absolute limit or grab Hylla and get out.

While he would have preferred going with the first option, doing so meant taking everything back from his daughter. Considering it would be the first time he ever did so, he wasn't sure what would happen to Rana. On the one hand, she could just be reduced to being part of him again, waiting until he released more of his authority back into her. On the other hand, she might disappear and cease to exist altogether.

If that happened, could he make her again? Moreover, did he want to?

The first time had been a fluke. Or rather, it had been luck in that he hadn't died immediately following her creation.

And there was no way he could go through that again. He had promises to keep, now. He couldn't risk dying on a whim like that. Back then he'd been less concerned with his own life. Now, it was a little different.

There was also another reason taking back his authority here and now would be a terrible idea: the pain.

His body was in bad shape. He would break under that kind of duress.

So the only option was to run, then. Cowardly? He figured it probably was, but better that than dying against Squeeze-A-Song Elmo's mortal enemy.

 _Then nature has to be mine. Nature has always been mine. This guy won't take it from me!_

Percy reached out to the vegetation surrounding him again. This time, he grabbed hold tight—so tight his grip may as well have been made of iron. His fingers clenched like vices. The trees tried to stay out of the reach of his influence, in the calm place that Orpheus had promised them with his music, but were unable to resist the pull when Percy really put his back into it.

Soon, the park was his.

He'd have asked Zoë if what he was about to do would be okay by her if she'd been around. But he reasoned she wouldn't even have to know. And given the situation, he was totally justified. He couldn't die. He was fighting for other people now, too.

Yeah, he was undoubtedly justified then.

Fingers twitching, a long hunk of wood from the closest tree was tossed his way. Percy caught the makeshift walking stick, using it to hold up the weight from his right leg.

With that, he lifted his left leg and brought his heel down to tap on the ground twice.

And the park exploded.

The grass went crazy. Twisted blobs of meaty wood blasted through the concrete, spiraling into the sky like huge stakes. New trees warped and bloomed with crunchy brown leaves, ripping through the reflecting pool and sending water splashing down all around them, adding to the rain. Chunks of stone fell like small meteorites.

Percy turned quickly and hobbled over to Hylla. The noise of creaking wood and sundering earth mostly drowned out Orpheus' shouting.

"We have to go." Percy grabbed Hylla's arm and hauled her with him. She was hardly able to walk but managed to stay upright as they zigzagged through the growing forest.

Hylla glanced at him as he supported her. "What… what's happening?"

"Oh, y'know," Percy huffed, suppressing a grimace as he moved his right leg. "Stayin' alive. I mean, couldn't you tell by the way I use my walk?"

She groaned and put a hand to her temple. "Are you a woman's man?"

"No time to talk," he nodded.

"Good, then shut up and move."

"Are you always this grateful to your savior? I'm expecting a kiss, by the way, for being your knight in shining armor."

"I didn't ask you for a kiss after saving your bacon from the sorceress."

Percy gritted his teeth and smiled thinly through the pain. "Your loss."

Once they'd escaped the forest, well on their way down the sidewalk away from the gaping mortals, he glanced back. Thankfully, this time, he'd managed to keep from destroying more than a city block. Using his power without Pan's wild energy was certainly less potent, even with him commanding the same authority.

In this case, though, he didn't mind. If Pan's godly power had been Percy's to borrow, more than just Cal Anderson Park would've been ruined. Everything around them would have been affected too. Homes, churches, the community college, businesses; Percy was glad it hadn't come to that.

"Are we clear?" Hylla asked, pushing off his body to stand with her own power. She wobbled a little but otherwise kept herself upright.

"I hope so," Percy leaned on his walking stick after they rounded a corner. The rain had let up, diminishing to a pleasant drizzle.

"What's with the cane?"

"It's a _walking stick_."

Hylla raised her eyebrow. "Mhm… so what's with the cane?"

"If you would use your _eyes_ , Hylla-dear, you might see that I have received a wound. Woe is me."

She glanced down at his leg. "That's a lot of damage."

Percy nodded. "You're telling me. I think I'm gonna pass out. Blood loss and all that jazz." He got a bit closer to her and opened his arms as if he were ready to hug her. With a faint smile, he asked, "Trust fall?"

Hylla's eyes widened. "Huh? No-no-no, w-wait!"

But he didn't, his lightheadedness finally closing in, and so he dropped into her outstretched arms.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello dear readers, I have brought this new offering.**

* * *

 _ **Review Response-**_

 **Guest 1 'Seattle Native': I'm glad you think so! I'm not from the city myself, but since I grew up in Washington, I've been to Seattle more than a few times.**

 **Guest 2: Thanks!**

 **Malosi06: Sorry for making you wait for so long! But between school, work, friends, hobbies, and writing, its been a balancing act. I decided to buff Circe a bit, since she's supposed to be the best sorceress around as well as being a goddess. Anyway, thanks for your thoughts and feedback, it's good to hear from you as always!**


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